The blessing and the curse
by Behindthecomputer
Summary: Ally heads back to her hometown to fulfill Mimi's dying wish. Can she deal with Austins seduction and still be faithful? This story is in no way my own and I don't take any credit for it. The author of this story is an amazing writer and you should read the original also.
1. Chapter 1

**This story was written in the twilight fandom. I love this story so much that I decided to change some names and make it fit the Austin and Ally fandom. I in no way own this story. Complete credit to The Black Arrow who originally posted the story. It's amazing.**

**I do not own Austin and ally or anything else you may recognize.**

Throughout time, as long as humans have loved, they have believed in soul mates. One person out there, tied to them, the missing piece of their soul. What else could explain that feeling of incompletion, the need to search, to scour the globe until the puzzle piece is found?

Everyone from royalty to peasants has searched, has looked into the eyes of another, wondering, is it you? Have I found you?

But fate does not intend an easy path for all. Sometimes, death interferes. Sometimes the world conspires to keep soul mates apart.

But sometimes, the bitterest pill to take is the soul mate that has been there all of your life. The soul mate who wants to consume you, to own you, to drink your strength. The soul mate that is tied to you, and you are shackled to them.

Fate dealt a cruel card to ally dawson. This was one instance where it may have been better if the souls had never found each other, but, as always, they had been dragged together like black magnets.

On one side of the coin, it was a blessing, because ally had her soul mate by her side since the moment she first opened her eyes on this world.

But on the flipside, the blessing was her curse: her wicked soul mate could hear her thoughts, read her like a book and use what he wished.

It took her most of her life to realize she was being conquered, and years to escape his tyranny.

As ally drove towards her hometown, her eyes trained on the horizon, she forced her mind to stop. Choice, she told herself. The greatest gift in life was choice.

She took some deep breaths, techniques taught to her by her psychologist, and stared at the purple-smudge clouds hovering over Forks like bruises. She deliberately relaxed her grip on the steering wheel, the last shaft of sunlight glinting off her bright engagement ring.

She allowed the pleasure of the lush greenery to soothe her, and wound down her window to breathe the sweet air. She tried to stop feeling like she was driving into battle. Even though she was.

**R&amp;R**


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own this story it belongs to The Black Arrow and it's an amazing story**

**I do not own Austin and ally or anything else you may recognize**

Ally's car slid down the hill towards her hometown like a toy train on a rail. She imagined her car was a sentient creature, that knew its way, and she smiled at the silly thought.

When she was a child, she had always fancied inanimate objects to be alive, to have personalities and opinions, purposes and fates, things that she herself was denied at every turn. She had instead contented herself with naming a tree, a chair, her bicycle, ridiculous childish names, imagining them to be her friends, aides on her quest.

When Austin had found out, she had been taunted mercilessly, and she had forced herself to abandon these thoughts.

Austin, her traitorous mind squeaked with a tinge of hysteria. Stop, she warned her mind, taking a healing deep breath and began a short visualization technique.

Her psychologist, Amy, always told her to envisage the best possible outcome instead of jumping to a worse case scenario.

Ally imagined arriving, the sun breaking through the clouds and the rain stopping. She imagined stepping out of her car, feeling the crunch of gravel in the Moon's sweeping driveway.

She imagined walking up the stone steps to the gothic revival stone mansion, and for once it didn't look like a haunted house.  
Getting into the vision now, ally relaxed further, picturing being met by the moon family in the foyer. Ethan would lift her off her feet like he always did, and she would lay her head on his shoulder and think of a bear.

Mike would kiss her cheeks and she would smell his distinct smell; like a musty library.

And Austin would be there, too. He would politely exclaim that it had been at least five years since they had seen each other. Six, actually, she would correct with a smile. He might joke with her about some of their childhood crimes, and as he leant down to embrace her she would feel…. Nothing. And he would hear nothing.

As they pulled away from each other, they would look at each other in relief, knowing it was finally over. They would all congratulate her on her engagement, and Ethan would go to the cellar to find a bottle of champagne.

And then, ally would climb the stairs to the second floor, to see her Godmother Mimi. She would be propped up in bed, looking remarkably well and not at all ravaged by cancer, and a dark suited specialist would exclaim to Mike that it was a miracle. They would all drink toasts to Mimi's health, to ally's happiness, and…..

A deer leapt nimbly out of the wet green foliage and in front of ally's car, snapping her out of her far-fetched fantasy. She swerved sharply and let out a hollow laugh. There was positive visualization, and then there was deluding oneself. Her heart heavy, she drove onwards towards grief.

*o*o*o*o*o*o

She found the concealed driveway with no trouble. She could have found it in her sleep. Her little cream mini's nose nudged aside the ferns, and she was in _their_ world now, into the _Moon Dimension_ as she privately thought of it.

The drive sloped down sharply, and she lost her stomach, the world seeming to tilt on its axis momentarily. This happened to her every time.

She wondered briefly who was now living in the house she and Lester had shared together during her childhood. It had been sold about four years ago. She felt no pang for it; she had never considered it to be her home. It had stood just outside the Moon Dimension, separated by a thicket of trees that were almost permanently shrouded in creepy mist.

Running through the field and trees as a little girl, she had imagined that she could _feel_ the exact moment that she crossed over.

Ally truly felt privileged to have been raised as an honorary Moon. After her mother had died when Ally was five, Lester was completely destroyed and to this day had not recovered.

He was like a city that had been bombed, and no one could bear to rebuild. Life post-Penny held no interest for him, and he continued with his endless cycle of waking, policing the town, returning, eating, sleeping. He had been beyond grateful that ally's Godmother (and penny's best friend) had taken ally off his hands. That way, he did not have to look at the tiny, worried face, the mocha brown eyes that were so like her revered mother's.

He would hold out her gum boots, one at a time for ally to thread her legs into, and she would start the long trek across the fields to the Moons, usually carrying a satchel containing a nightgown and her school uniform.

Ally smiled as she thought of Mimi. How she would have survived those post-Penny nuclear wasteland years without Mimi, she did not know. Extravagant, bohemian, warm Mimi. She was one of those people who exuded a light.

Ally was acutely aware of the honour bestowed upon her every time the front door was opened. Ally had always felt on the outer edge of their sphere, and even though she was included by Mimi and Mike as if she had been their daughter, she had always felt separate; analyzing every gesture for any traces of pity.

She had realized long ago that there was one person tangled up in and inextricable from every memory of her childhood. Austin. He had been born three hours before ally; penny and Mimi had always joked that they were twins born to different mothers.

They were born at the same hospital, and slept their first night on Earth in the hospital, in cribs side by side. They were definitely a strange sort of twins.

Ally shook off the disturbing thought as she felt her car's tyres crunching the gravel driveway, and with dizzying relief saw that Austins car wasn't there. She let out a breath that burned her lungs like acid and felt like she had been granted a reprieve. She could pretend he didn't exist for a while longer.

*o*o*o*o*o*o

Ally tried the front door. Finding it unlocked, she stepped inside hesitantly, the nostalgia washing over her. The air tasted different inside these walls.

"Mike" she called. "Ethan" She took in the wide staircase directly before her; the dark wood paneled walls, the portraits of Moons past.

Ally stuffed her keys into her pocket and crossed the foyer to the right, down the dark hallway, past the empty sitting room, into the sunlit industrial kitchen. Nobody. There was not a sound, apart from the tick of the clock and the drone of the refrigerator. There were some dishes in the sink.

Mike had told her to wait until he had spoken to her before she went up to see Mimi. Ally knew this meant that Mimi was very bad. That she had very little time left. Ally was amazed that she was not crying yet. She was so used to the lump in her throat she barely felt it anymore.

She stood on tiptoe, absently noticing the pots of fresh herbs on the windowsill needed watering, but could see nobody outside in the garden. Perhaps they had gone out, she thought, exhaustion gripping her suddenly like a mugger in a dark alley. She had been driving for almost seven hours.

She drank from the kitchen tap, marveling at how delicious the water in this house was. It truly was like a strange kingdom she had stumbled into. She splashed some water on the herbs. Maybe just a short lie down, she thought to herself, going back out of the kitchen and into the sitting room, collapsing on the musty chaise that had cradled her through countless childhood illnesses. She managed to toe off her sneakers. She fell asleep so instantly that it could have been a faint.

*o*o*o*o*o*o

Ally was dreaming, knew she was dreaming. She was watching her younger self and Austin, sitting on the lowest branch of a tree in the ghostly thicket of trees separating their houses. Probably seven years old.

They were holding hands, as always. People found that sweet when they were five, slightly unusual when they were ten. By fifteen, it caused a great deal of concern, and phrases like 'unhealthy bond' were tossed around. By sixteen, Austin held her not by the hand, but by the wrist, a human restraint. She could still remember the hot, electric sting of his skin on hers.

"Ally," Seven year old Austin was saying, "You are mine. You are my person. Don't argue," he added, though she had not spoken, "It won't help. I own you."

Adult ally, watching this dream through a window in her memory, opened her mouth to scream at her younger self, scream at her to fight back, to drop his hand and sever the connection.

She watched as her younger self bit her lip, wanting to speak up, opening her mouth to speak finally to argue back but biting back the words as Austins frown darkened. She saw his fingers digging into the back of her palm, and marveled at how strange and unnatural, yet irrefutably true his assertion was.

The dream shifted, altered, and she recognized the setting: the school gym, her junior prom. She was seeing the scene now through her own eyes, rather than an observer. Standing on the edge of the dance floor, awkward in her black sleeveless dress, waiting for hours to be asked to dance. She was supposed to be here with Austin as her 'date' (Mimi had insisted) but he had abandoned her the moment they had entered the doors.

A new boy she recognized from Math class approached her, and they chatted for a moment about how he was enjoying Chicago. "Do you want to dance?" He had asked awkwardly and she felt herself smile.

"No, she won't ever dance with you." Austin, materializing out of nowhere, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

As he dragged her away to deposit her somewhere else, she heard another boy's voice say, "Dude, that was asking for trouble." Ally felt the pull of his hand on her arm, like she was being dragged into a vortex.

It was her strangled scream that jolted her awake. That and the sound of a car door slamming.

*o*o*o*o*o*o

Ally leapt to her feet, wincing as her stiff back protested and went to the window.

She could see the back end of a silver Aston Martin, formerly mikes car from his college days, parked half in the patch of marigolds bordering the drive. There was no movement visible. No sound from the front door. If Mimi saw those crushed, muddied marigolds she would have dragged Austin over the coals.

Still no sound. Ally stood still, like a frightened rabbit. Her stomach cramped painfully in anxiety.

Hating herself, she stuffed her feet back into her sneakers, and ran through the kitchen, out into the air, and ran across the fields. Her heavy brown hair kept swirling around, obscuring her vision, causing her steps to grow irregular in the squelching wet turf.

She had no thought of deep breathing exercises, of positive visualization, of little affirmations about how she was a strong person. All her months of cognitive therapy with Amy had been leading to this moment.

But instinct had taken over, and ally did the opposite of what she had planned to do. If he was watching from the window, which he probably was, he would see she was fleeing and he would laugh in delight.

He couldn't actually hear her mind unless he was touching her skin, and ally had to remind herself that he wasn't some God-like, omniscient presence. He couldn't hear her thoughts as she ran through the muddy field. He couldn't reach her yet, but she knew he would soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Again this is not my story it belongs to The Black arrow. Here's chapter three**

**I do not own Austin and Ally or anything else you may recognize**

The air was wet and moisture beaded on her hair. She continued to run, with no particular destination. Mud squelched under her sneakers, ruining them, making her feet feel slimy and disgusting.

Ally realized she was running towards her old house, and she decided to visit it, to see if it appeared different. Slowing to a walk, her breath fogging in the chilly air, she followed the invisible trail she had taken since she was five years old.

The field was always lush, wet, with slate-grey rocks punctuating the thick pasture every ten feet or so. It wasn't the sort of pasture that could be farmed; crops would never grow in the grey clay mud and there were too many rocks anyway. Besides once being home to Austin and Ethan's childhood ponies, the field was left to its own devices.

Ally smiled to herself as she walked, remembering the summer that the ponies had arrived. Ethan, the older son and the infinitely more sensible, kind boy, had received a heavy set black pony named Jupiter, who walked slowly and deliberately, like a retired magistrate.

Austin, in contrast, had a slim, wicked grey pony named Mercury, and the two had been like one creature; of one mind when Austin rode him. Both always fidgeting, moving, watching. Ally remembered watching them gallop into the trees, leaping fallen logs as gracefully, Mercury's hooves almost soundless, disappearing into the fog like ghosts.

Mercury's benevolent, long lashed expression often duped ally into attempting to stroke him, which usually ended in a painful nip and a torn sweater, but one time in twenty, he would rub her shoulder gently and affectionately with his muzzle.

Mercury never tired of this, and his dark, liquid brown eyes lured her in, time and time again.

Ally had discussed with Amy that she only remembered the bad times with Austin, and explained that for every bad memory, she had at least two good ones. It was just harder to remember the good times.

She sat on a log a few hundred feet from the back of her old house. The house looked in much better repair than the last time she'd seen it. There was a swing set, and she could see a woman kneeling in what looked like a vegetable patch.

She wondered if she would be that person once she was married. She twisted the ring on her finger, and smiled faintly as she thought of elliot.

He couldn't come with her to Chicago, was too busy as always, and ally didn't expect him to clear his schedule for her. He was working on a landmark court case at the moment; and as the prosecuting attorney, he couldn't very well just take a few weeks off to visit the wet, green sponge that was Chicago. Mrs ally michaels, she tried out uncertainly in her mind, trying to visualize it on paper. Mrs michaels.

Mrs moon, her mind countered before she could stop it. Not on your life, she told herself. She would never be a moon.

Once Mimi died, the remaining moons wouldn't want her anymore, and she would be alone. Orphaned. Lester was alive and kicking, and living out his mechanical retirement in New Jersey, but he had left her a long time ago.

Better to create your own fate, she thought, as she stood, brushing off the back of her dark jeans, once again twisting the ring on her finger. It's a better thing to choose.

She turned, and froze. She could see him standing in the clearing of trees. At least, she couldn't discern his face, but could only assume it was him. Who else would it be?

Perhaps she had known he was there all along; could feel the prickle on the back of her neck as she sat toying with her new diamond.

He was a black silhouette against the grey backdrop of trees and mist. Austin wasn't moving; probably expecting her to walk to him.

This was how it had always been, even when they had been small. Ally stood still, forcing her breath to stay steady and deep. There was no reason to panic. He no longer has any hold over you, she reminded herself.

A crow let out a long, ominous cry and ally resisted the urge to shiver, rolling her eyes at the drama of the scene. Next thing, vultures would surely start circling, hopefully not over the ruined carcass of her self respect. Let's get this over with. She reminded herself that she was twenty six, not five years old.

Ally started the long walk to him, trying not to remember the last time she saw him. Six years ago. New Year's Day. The taste of humiliation was still faint, and she distracted herself as she trudged forward, but the memories still assailed her.

She noticed a white larkspur struggling up out of the moss. Remembered the moment of entering the moons lavish party; the crystal glittering in the candlelight. The feeling of the red silk dress against her skin. The champagne in her blood, making her feel bold.

Ally blocked the memory expertly, focused her attention on the swaying tree branches. She squinted against the wet mist and saw Austin raise his hand, rub the back of his neck- the same gesture he had made when she walked in on him having sex with what she thought was her only true female friend, Chelsea, on her own bed. The gesture encompassed: This is me, this is what I'm like, you are forced to accept this.

Ally swallowed, mud squelching at her shoes. Ancient history. It's not like he was cheating on her; as always, he was free to do what he pleased. Not like her, she thought darkly. He guarded her from the teenage boys at school like a tiger, even the ones who had simply been trying to be her friend. Not because he had wanted her, but because he didn't want anyone else to have her.

Even as a little boy, Austin had never shared well.

Ally neared him, focusing her feet on his gorgeous leather boots, also caked in mud. Her own cream sneakers were annihilated.

She walked like a prisoner approaching the firing squad. There would be a scene, she knew, but thanked God they were about a mile away from anybody.

The fog swirled around them, and as ally lifted her eyes to his face, the impact was as strong as a blow to her solar plexus. His sheer, otherworldly beauty was astounding. She had almost become immune, before she left for college.

Now, as always when she saw him again after a separation, she gaped at him in shock, she drank in his face again, dimly aware that her breath was shallow in her chest.

His eyes glinted dark hazel. His expression was a strange, dark smirk. He seemed even taller than she remembered; towering over her in his signature black; black jeans, black tshirt, black leather jacket. He looked like James Dean's demon twin.

His glorious hair was a complete nightmare as usual; blonde, thick and messy. He never brushed it. His fingers combed it when he grew angry, which was several times a day.

His beautiful mouth was twisted, as if partway through a sarcastic observation. It spread into a smile as he looked her over in return, his scorching eyes raking over her, taking in her slim legs in tight stretch jeans, her striped sweater, the puffy quilted black jacket.

He stepped closer, examining her face, his smile fading as his customary frown returned. He held out his hand.

The wind blasted them suddenly, and he spoke her name, somehow coating the word with honey and thorns. "Ally."

His hand remained outstretched. Since childhood, he had always held out his hand, expecting her to take it so he could eavesdrop. She had always been shy, unable to fully translate her tangled thoughts into words, and he had always been impatient, insatiable in his need to know _everything_. His yearbook quote was 'Knowledge is power'. It effectively summed up their childhood relationship.

Ally tucked her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, and this act of defiance deepened his annoyed expression into a terrifying scowl. He had always hated any sign of resistance from her.

"Ally," he said again crossly, "Don't be difficult." He moved closer and she could smell leather, smoke, apples, steeling herself as she anticipated his next tactic.

Sure enough, he lowered his face to hers, exhaled on her cheek, bathing her with his breath. He had been using this ace up his sleeve since they were sixteen.

It should have been tiresome, but as the goosebumps raised on her arms and the blood pulsed in her throat, it never failed to produce the intended reaction.

The worst thing about having a best friend like Austin had been that he was simultaneously her worst enemy. He manipulated every scenario into one that garnered him his desired result, and he knew from her confused, resistant mind that she found him beautiful, was bewildered by her body's response to him.

So he used that.

"Ally, you look beautiful," he breathed, his voice barely above a rough whisper, still not touching her.

She stood rigid, biting her lip and turning her face away.

"Now, now," she heard him mutter, "Aren't you going to say hello to me?" His face dropped lower into the curve of her neck, his hair tickling her exposed collarbone.

"Hello, Austin." Ally responded, amazed at how normal her voice sounded. She sounded like she was greeting a colleague or an acquaintance.

She tightened her jaw and repressed a shiver as she felt the scratch of his stubble on her neck.

"What's wrong with you?" He barked, grabbing her arm, tugging on her elbow.

She sighed deeply as he managed to wrench her hand free from her pocket, and watched detachedly as he took her hand, and his deft fingers found the ring on her hand.

He bent down, examining the ring idly, turning the diamond this way and that as he prepared to open her mind like a filing cabinet. He paused, blinked.

"What the FUCK is that?" he roared, the explosive sound of his voice causing a flock of doves to take flight from a nearby tree, tiny white flashes against the oppressive thunderclouds.

**R&amp;R**


	4. Chapter 4

**Again I do not own this story it belongs to The Black arrow but it is one of my favorites.**

**I do not own Austin and Ally or anything else you may recognize **

* * *

**Chapter Three: Diamond Denial  
**

"It's a ring." Ally remained calm, to her credit, as austin seethed, his fingers plucking at the ring, examining the offending article, his expression murderous. She pictured in her mind the night that elliot proposed; the beautiful restaurant, how he had placed the pale blue Tiffany box on the side of her plate, his satisfied smile as she had said yes.

Austin threw her hand back at her as if she had burned him. "Why are you telling me that?" He hissed. "What the FUCK?"

Ally stepped back from him, put a safe distance between them, finally back in her element. She had been party to hundreds of his tantrums over the years. She knew he would never hurt her. She had witnessed first hand what he did to those who _did_ hurt her. He just needed room to allow his fury to properly detonate. She backed over to a flat, wet stone, sat and waited.

He was incredible when he was angry. He stood towering over her, blocking the light, his energy radiating from him almost visibly. The air around him seemed to crackle. He appeared to be trying to frame a coherent sentence.

"Fuck," he repeated several times, each sharper and louder than the previous. He began running his hand through his hair.

She had once told him that he looked like a vaudeville villain on a stage, tearing his hair out at particularly bad news. It was true. She winced in sympathy for his poor hair, the gorgeous mess being punished.

"Why are you doing this now?" He said finally, his voice like poison.

"What do you mean, doing this now?" She said, incredulous. "I haven't done anything wrong."

"You know what I mean," he countered, kicking at a nearby lump of turf, sending it flying. "This is the worst possible timing. In case you've forgotten in your _post engagement high_"- here, his voice became mocking, breathy and high pitched like a girl- "My mother is dying." He finished on a roar again, the final word hanging in the air like an ugly stench.

His chest was rising and falling rapidly, and ally watched impassively as he worked himself into a true rage.

She could see now, after their separation, what he was doing. Her years of therapy helped her to recognize it, to understand him better. He had no capacity for vulnerability, for showing pain, and instead it was channeled into anger.

His older brother, Ethan, would be able to sit beside her, to lay his head on her shoulder, to speak the words and experience the pain, to seek comfort. But austin could not do that. Instead, he took it out on the closest person, in this case, her.

"You idiot! You are so predictable. Picket fency ally, wanting to wear a white veil and be the princess, baking cupcakes and cooling pies on the windowsill, and ironing whatshisname's hideous white business shirts." His hazel eyes were more a mossy-black as he screamed at her. He was probably tearing chunks of hair out, by the looks of it.

She spoke softly. "Austin, I'm so sorry about Mimi. So, so sorry."

He whirled on her. "Don't you dare start that 'she's been like my mother' crap with me, ally dawson. She's not your mother. She's MINE."

Ally forced herself to not cringe back as he crouched to kneel in front of her, his knee on the rock beside her leg. His body was shaking with anger.

"She's not only yours," she protested, "She's everybody's. You don't own her. She belongs to Mike and Ethan too. And to me, a little bit, as much as you hate it." Her voice ended on a whisper. His face was inches from hers. His pain was as palpable as his anger.

"Austin," ally tried tentatively, her hand wrapping around his wrist. "Austin, calm down." She breathed deep, forced her mind to be calm, serene, but instead unwittingly remembered doing the same thing when they were seventeen and Austin had beaten Joey smith unconscious in the car park during a school dance.

Austins face twisted in amusement at her memory. "That'll learn him to try to make second base with you."

Ally shook her head ruefully. "I still don't understand why you did that. It was completely unnecessary. And you left me outside to wait for the paramedics, while you went inside and got a hand job from Cassidy in the teacher's lounge."

Austin smiled cruelly. "I have never denied having double standards."

Ally let go of his wrist in irritation. Austins rage was flagging now, and he twisted around to sit beside her on the rock, almost squashing her.

"And besides," Austin continued, "You covered for me very nicely. You told your dad it was some guys you had never seen before, that they jumped poor old Joey." Amusement tinged his features, and ally knew that the outburst was over. He sagged companionably against her.

"I should never have said that. I should have let you get arrested, you horrible boy. Poor Joey. I wonder what he's up to now."

"Keeping his hands to himself, I'd wager. That, and working as a car wash attendant, or some shit."

Ally bit back a smile, and shivered at a blast of cold wind. She tugged the back of her jacket down over her exposed back.

It was lucky elliot hadn't come along; she can't imagine what he would have made of Austin. The thought of the two together in the same room was horrifying. They were polar opposites. They were from practically different species.

She had gone into Elliot's office on the way out of town, to say goodbye. He had been sitting at his desk, in an ice blue shirt and immaculate pale grey suit, his brown hair carefully smoothed.

"Ally," he had said in a warning tone as she hovered uncertainly in the doorway, "I've asked you not to come here unannounced."

"I'm sorry," she had replied, "I'm just going to be gone for a while, and I wanted to say goodbye…"

Elliot stood, and she thought he was coming to kiss her. Instead, he motioned her aside as one of his colleagues approached the door.

"Have a nice time," he had said, dismissing her, as he extended his hand to the man. A nice time? Was he insane? Her Godmother was dying. She had cried in her car as she drove away from the courts.

Ally realized she had been lost in her thoughts, and Austins hand had slowly slid up under the back of jacket, stroking her skin with his cold hand. "Get out of there," she told him sharply, "Your hand is freezing."

"But you're so warm. Don't be mean." She shoved his hand out roughly with her own, twisted her hand out of his as he snatched at the engagement ring again.

"Stop eavesdropping."

"You've made a big mistake." Austin said darkly.

"I certainly haven't. Elliot is a really nice guy. He's really good to me." Ally traced a crack in the rock they were sitting on with her fingertip. "He's a prosecutor."

Austin snarled. "I don't care about him. Don't bother telling me about him. It's not going to happen."

Ally stood and turned to face Austin, who slouched nonchalantly. Out of his grip, out of range of his apple scent, she allowed her mind to register his appearance again.

He had faint stubble, and his lips always looked like he had just been kissing. He lounged on the rock as though he were reclining on a feather bed. He was completely, utterly delicious.

But, she told herself as she slapped herself mentally, he was also completely dysfunctional, self centred and immature.

Still, her traitorous eyes followed the lean length of his legs as he leaned back on his elbows. His stomach looked very flat and hard under that t-shirt. Ally closed her eyes, willed herself to focus.

"I always kissed you goodbye," he said, biting his bottom lip with his white teeth and narrowing his eyes at her speculatively.

Ally snorted. "Yes, and always slightly inappropriately."

He raised an eyebrow. "Only slightly?" His dark hazel eyes that missed nothing, including her inventory of his body, noted with delight the blush burned her cheeks.

Her voice was hurried as she steered the conversation back to safer terrain.

"About my engagement. I want to tell Mimi. I want to have her know that someone will take care of me once she's gone." She watched her words sink in.

Austins face darkened, his eyes flashing, and in that instant she was afraid of him. She took a step back as he slowly got to his feet.

"Firstly, you are telling her no fucking such thing."

Ally backed away further, her sneakers sucking at the ground.

"Secondly, you are going to take that revolting ring off your finger."

Allys hand formed a fist. "I will not."

"Thirdly", he continued as if she had not spoken, "You were only asked down here so early because Mimi was hoping you'd end up with me."

Ally stared at him. "That's ridiculous. She's never wanted that."

"How do you know?" Austin countered. "She never stops hinting about it to me. We had a talk about it just the other night on the phone."

Ally began shaking her head furiously. "You're wrong. You're lying. She knows we would be a disaster together."

"Would we?" He said. "I find you very attractive."

He advanced on her, vampirish in black, looking very much like he was about to suck the blood from her body. The image of his mouth on her throat flashed behind her eyes.

"Austin, you find anything breathing and female attractive."

Ally jabbed her finger at him, her frustration escalating. "It's too late. Maybe I had a little crush on you when we were kids, but I'm engaged now, and I want you to try to be happy for me."

"You'd deny Mimi her final wish?" Austins words were calculatedly cruel.

"Austin, be serious. I can see what you're doing. You can't admit to yourself that one of your 'possessions' is not yours any more."

She stepped over to him, wrapped her arms around his waist, suddenly fighting off tears.

"You're like a damn collector. She's leaving us, Austin." Ally could feel the tension in his body, and she hugged him tighter. Wanting to absorb some of his pain. His arms hung limply at his sides and he made no move to hug her back.

He spoke, his voice soft now. "She's been worried, ally. Ethan has Kira. But I won't have anyone."

Ally rolled her eyes as she leaned back to look at his face. She could detect no trace of insincerity. Usually she could tell when he was lying. He always looked pleased with himself. Now, he just looked tired.

She suddenly noticed the dark circles under his eyes, his face just a little gaunt. Knowing Austin, he had been stewing on this, fretting over it. He probably had a huge ulcer.

"I don't believe you." She said flatly, and released his waist.

Wordlessly, he took out a small, thin mobile, selected a number and dialed. It was on speakerphone.

"Hello?" Mimi's voice was faint, weak. Instantly, Austins entire demeanor changed. He seemed to soften, and his scowl melted. His face was a mask of agonized pain.

"Did I wake you, ma?" He said, sinking back down to sit on the rock. Ally copied him.

"No, no, just lying here, looking at the clouds out the window. It's going to storm any second."

Tears began streaming down ally's cheeks.

"Ma, I wanted to ask you something, about what we were talking about before. About ally." His voice was light, conversational, and he shot a warning look at ally to keep quiet.

"Oh, ally, my beautiful ally." Mimi's voice was a bare whisper.

"You said something that was interesting to me. About how maybe ally might be the girl for me."

"Austin, I'm so sure she is. I love her more than life." They could hear blankets rustling, settling, ally imagining Mimi rolling over awkwardly to speak conspiratorially with the telephone.

"She's got such a special energy around her."

"But do you think that she's my… soul mate?" Austin asked. Everybody knew that Mimi believed fervently, passionately in soul mates.

"She is your soul mate, Austin. She was born three hours after you. It was like she couldn't bear you being in the world without her." Austin threw a triumphant look at ally.

"She's your other half. She balances you perfectly. You are dark, and she is light." Mimi laughed lightly. "I sound like a greeting card." She sighed. There was a long pause, and Austin made no attempt to fill it.

"But Austin," Mimi warned, "If ally is still seeing elliot, I want you to promise not to interfere. Promise me, Austin."

Austin laughed and hung up. He turned to ally. "I will promise no such thing."

Ally wiped away her tears with the back of her hand and turned to look at Austin, her heart sinking. She recognized his expression from years ago. It was the same look he had shot her when teachers asked them to stay back after class, after any social function, and whenever he checked caller ID and held the phone out to her.

The look was a threatening glint in his eye, coupled with a smirk hovering around his lips. He wanted her to lie.

"What do you want?" She said tonelessly as he took her hands, pulled her to her feet.

"You're to pretend to be falling in love with me."

Ally shook her head, toed the ground with her shoe. "No."

"You're going to do it, and my mother can die in peace. Her son will be all taken care of, and she won't have to worry about you. Neat and tidy," he said to himself as he took her hand and worked the ring from her finger.

"Disgusting thing," he commented as he held it aloft. Ally snatched it before he could do something terrible, like throw it in the mud. She wouldn't put it past him.

"How long does she have?" Ally asked the dreaded question.

"One week….. two, possibly."

These horrible words echoed in her ears and made fresh tears prick the backs of her eyes.

Austin stepped close, his arms finally wrapping around her, one hand edging up under her clothes and onto her skin again. He cradled her firmly, his belt buckle pressing into her stomach. Her cheek lay on his soft t-shirt, and the smell of wet leather and his sweet scent filled her nostrils.

He always somehow fit her body against his perfectly despite being a foot taller than her. Unwittingly, her arms had risen to wrap themselves around his waist.

"We fit together well, don't we?" He muttered against her temple. She struggled, tried to push him away. She had enjoyed having some mental privacy these last few years.

"I'm sorry. I wish I couldn't do it." He said, and he truly did sound regretful. "I can't stop. I mean, I can stop, but I want to so badly. It's addictive."

"Try." She said.

"Only if you do this one thing for me."

Ally Sighed. She thought of how badly she had wanted to tel Mimi about Elliot's proposal, to talk wedding dresses and flowers. She had thought it would have made her so happy.

"It would be terrible news for her," Austin said softly. "It would mean her last hope for me would be gone."

Ally could see that once again, he had trapped her into a corner.

"I don't mean to make you feel trapped," he said, his breath hot in her hair. "I know I do. Something about you makes me want to trap you."

"That's messed up, Austin." She managed to say.

"Will you do it?"

She said nothing for what seemed like an eternity. Finally she spoke. "As usual, you give me no choice."


	5. Chapter 5

**Same disclaimers as before. I do not own this story it belongs to The Black arrow.**

**I do not own Austin and Ally or anything else you may recognize**

* * *

**Chapter Four: Not a Toy  
**

They walked back to the house in hostile silence. Ally was fighting to keep control of herself, to bottle the clawing frustration, resentment, powerlessness. It was exactly like being sixteen again.

As always, he had gotten his way. He had successfully trapped her and she had allowed it. All of her therapy, preparation, years of moving on from this place, wasted. It was as if the moment she had crossed into the Moon dimension, she was transported back into her feeble teenage self.

Her session the previous week with Amy had been specifically to prepare for this day. The day that she saw him again. Amy's pep talk was still fresh in her memory.

"_Remember this, ally, if you remember nothing else. You are not going to be able to change Austin; you have no control over him. He is a variable that is outside your sphere of influence._

_He may have changed, but it is more likely that he hasn't. You know who he is, who he will always be. And you have to accept that._

_But YOU have changed. You are a stronger person since I started seeing you five years ago. You are smart, and confident. You were crippled with anxiety when we first started working together. You couldn't open yourself up without fear of being hurt or used. You couldn't even talk to a man without freezing up._

_But now you have a job in your chosen field, and you're in a stable relationship with a successful man. You're leasing an apartment in a great location. You have friends who like you for yourself and aren't using you._

_Remember all of this and make sure that you control your own behaviour, and don't allow others to drive your life any more. Remember your choices. "_

Allys mouth tasted metallic as she sludged through the field, the house looming up in the distance, shrouded in fog. If only life had a rewind button, she thought, her throat tightening with repressed tears of frustration.

She had a tendency to cry when happy, when sad, when angry. She cried when tired and cried when moved. Perhaps it was her years of repressed emotions, but these days, the tears welled up with irritating regularity and it was only the tiny muscles in her eyes stopping them sliding out, running down her cheeks.

All of her fantasies about seeing Austin again had not gone this way. Usually, when lying in bed late at night, she sometimes indulged in a small daydream that when she saw him again, he would be amazed by her strength, her success, the transformation she had undergone.

If she was honest with herself, whenever she visualized any great success, it was always Austins face that she saw. His stunned appreciation as he watched with pride and the unmistakable regret that he had ruined things between them. Her fantasy about him crying at her wedding was a fond favourite. She wanted to triumph over him, as childish as that was.

In her mind, as she crossed the stage and accepted Pulitzer Prize for her contributions to journalism, Austin sat ashen faced and reverent in the front row. She had rehearsed a thousand different reunions over the last few weeks, as the knowledge of Mimi's deterioration had pressed down on her shoulders like an anvil.

None of these fantasies had involved walking across a field, swallowing furious tears, with a Tiffany and Co engagement ring held in her fist so tightly the diamond was likely to perforate her skin. She put it into her jacket pocket and zipped it closed.

Whilst it wasn't raining yet, the air was so moist, so foggy, the storm looming so close overhead that her hair was covered in crystal droplets and her jacket was half soaked.

Ausrin walked slightly behind her, not touching her, and it unnerved her to see his black presence just out of the corner of her eye, like a blur, like when eyelashes stick together. Her own personal black demon. It was like everything he did was calculated to disconcert, to test, to exert control, and as she walked, and her frozen feet stumbled over tussocks and slipped into rabbit holes, the lit firecracker of fury inside her blazed into life.

Mind fucker, she thought, rage bubbling up in her throat. She would have that chiseled on his tombstone. Austin Moon, here lies a beloved son, brother and evil mind fucker. She wondered if all of those words would fit on his tombstone. If they refused to do it, she'd chisel them herself with her bare hands. She allowed herself a small image of herself drinking a beer whilst seated cross legged on his grave, exhausted from chiseling. The picture was immensely gratifying.

Austin seemed to be having no difficulty with the slippery turf, his long legs taking one stride for each of her two. He had stepped closer behind her, and she could hear his even breathing behind her ear. She felt his hand pinch her backside, presumably in a juvenile attempt to make her laugh. She pulled up short, turned sharply, and slapped his cheek. His mouth dropped open in shock, and she turned and kept walking with as much dignity as she could muster.

Ally could see Mike, a small figure in the distance, waiting for them on the stone patio behind the house. They wove up through the gardens, the scents of herbs swirling around them in the increasing wind. Fat raindrops were starting to freckle the pale stone path. Ally jogged the rest of the way, and stood in front of Mike.

"Ally, sweetie, how are you?" He asked tenderly, wrapping her up in a hug. She relaxed against him, her cheek on his scratchy wool sweater, feeling her anger drain while the shock of his appearance reverberated inside her. Mimi's illness had taken its toll on Mike. He looked tired and grey, and had lost at least twenty five pounds. She leaned against him, and felt him lean back.

"I'm fine. Mike, are you alright?" Ally pulled back to look him over again. "You're so thin."

He smiled faintly, his blue-green eyes bloodshot. "She doesn't eat, and I forget to."

Ally smiled softly. "I'm here now, so that's going to change. How is she?"

Ally heard Austins step on the stone steps behind her. mike didn't answer her, and instead smiled at Austin, held out his arms.

Ally stepped aside and watched, gimlet eyed, as the two embraced. The prodigal son had returned.

Austin usually looked almost nothing like Mike, favouring Mimi's colouring, but he had Mikes height, and for a split second as they pulled back and studied each other, they looked exactly alike. ally thought she could see what Austin would look like when he was older.

Then she realized that it was grief that was making them so alike. Austin had a reddened cheek. If Mike had seen her slap him, or had noted the red mark, he said nothing. Unlike his son, mike was the soul of discretion.

"Shall we sit in the kitchen?" Mike suggested quietly. Ally and Austin tugged off their muddy footwear at the door. Ally made a mental note to throw hers away, and wondered if her old boots were still in the laundry.

They went inside, and the two men sat at the kitchen bench while ally made three cups of cocoa, which she placed before Mike with care, and slapped down in front of Austin. She took the stool opposite to Austin and they all wrapped their chilled hands around the mugs.

Austin hadn't looked her in the eye since she slapped him.

"When are Ethan and Kira arriving?" Ally asked after a minute of stretched silence.

"Kira is too pregnant to fly. He's driving them down at the moment, they should arrive late tonight." Mike took a sip of cocoa, looked out the window for a long time. He seemed to be choosing his words. His eyes belied his heartbreak as he finally spoke, his voice flat, mechanical.

"Mimi. Well. She's very bad. She's got about two weeks left, at most."

Ally glanced at Austin; his face was a beautiful, blank mask. She recognized that lack of expression; it was strange to see his face without a slight frown. This was as close to howling anguish as Austin could get. His pain was so palpable, the slight tremor in his fingers as he touched his mug, causing an unexpected surge of pity in her.

She put her anger aside, promising to return to it, and laid her hand palm up on the bench. Austin quickly flattened his own palm against hers gratefully. Mike watched without surprise. After all, they used to sit like that, palm to palm at the dinner table as children.

Ally was unclear how much Mike and Mimi knew about Austins gift. She assumed that Austin could read everybody, should he make contact with them. The minds of countless women were therefore known to him at one time.

Austin certainly gave the impression of hearing everyone. He was insufferably smug and always alluded to knowing everything about everyone when they were growing up.

"There are no secrets," he used to drawl exaggeratedly as he unearthed Ethan's personal treasures, ruined plans for secret birthday presents and exposed illicit passions and foolish crushes. He only seemed to delight in taunting ally with his talents; with everyone else he was more discreet in his manipulation.

He had an unshakable self confidence and arrogance that had made enemies of school teachers and a legion of female followers- the fan club, ally had called them scornfully.

Austins eyes now sparkled in amusement at the memory of the nickname and took another sip of his cocoa.

No, it hadn't been funny at the time, she thought crossly. She hadn't made a female friend in years that hadn't been using her as a way to get to him. Their relationship was deemed weird and slightly incestuous by the school population- ally always felt eyes on them as the bus pulled away from the foot of the Moon drive and they began the walk home, hand in hand.

Ally had been painfully shy and not considered a threat by the cheerleaders and prom queens who circled like buzzards.

As these fleeting memories and images slid through her mind, she watched Austin with fascination, noticing how languid his dark hazel eyes were when he listened in.

The gift was not spoken of within the family, but seemed to be accepted as fact, like it was just exceptional eyesight or a talent for numbers or foreign languages.

Austins mouth twisted; he had heard her wonder this a thousand times but never answered her.

She knew that he _could_ stop listening if he chose, if he concentrated, but he had once said scornfully that listening to her thoughts was like being addicted to a soap opera. He knew he shouldn't keep listening, but he was somehow hooked on the storyline, he had said.

He liked to listen. It allowed him to strategize.

He never revealed to her what the thoughts sounded like; whether they were just images and faint impressions, or crystal clear dialog in her own inner monolog. (She prayed fervently for the former).

Edward raised his eyebrows and raised his eyes to the ceiling in mock consideration and she dug her nails into his palm cruelly.

"Is Mimi in pain?" Ally finally asked, feeling Austins fingers tighten on her hand in return. He turned over her hand, covered it with his own palm, flattened her hand gently against the bench top. He had beautiful hands, slightly rough but warm. His hand completely engulfed her own.

Mike rubbed at his face. "Yes, she's in a lot of pain at the moment, though she never complains. They're still trying to work out a good level of pain medication."

He paused. "But it varies. Some days, when the weather's nice, she's well enough to sit out on her balcony in an armchair. Other days she's barely conscious."

mike smiled faintly, clearly trying to put on a brave face. "She's been asking for you, ally."

Ally took a deep breath. She was scared to go upstairs. Scared she would break down in front of Mimi and upset her. This day had gone so badly already. Mike seemed to sense this, and regarded her kindly.

"I want you to be prepared; she looks much worse than when you saw her a couple of months ago. But she's still the same Mike on the inside. Shall we go upstairs? She'll want to talk awhile. Just pretend it's like old times."

Mike stood, held out his hand to her, and she slipped her free hand into his. All three linked, holding hands, they walked through the darkened house, up the stairs to the second floor, and approached the door lined with silver light at the end of the hallway.

Mike knocked softly, waited. Ally released Austins hand.

The door creaked open and for a moment, ally's eyes were dazzled. The huge, floor-to-ceiling window was blinding. The curtains were all the way open, and the turbulent clouds outside slid past like a river. Once her eyes adjusted, she saw Mimi, half propped up on some pillows.

"Ally?" Mimi said softly.

Underneath the soft knitted cap, Mimi's once beautiful blonde hair was all but gone, ravaged by months of intensive chemotherapy. She was wasted and gaunt, barely a shape underneath the blankets, her eyes hollow, and her lips cracked. But as she looked at ally, she made an attempt to smile, and raised one hand slightly off the bed.

She was still utterly beautiful, graceful, her light still burning.

Ally felt her eyes fill with tears, and bit her lip, awkward. Her beautiful Mimi who had plaited her hair, attended parent teacher conferences and tucked her in. Fading away from the world, leaving ally alone and cold. There would be no one left to love her now. Ally felt wobbly, unsure of how to react, what to say.

Austin saved ally stepping out of the dark hallway and wrapping his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. "We're both here, ma. And Ethan and Kira will be here soon, too."

Mimis face was radiant. "Come here, darlings," she said softly, closing her eyes briefly.

Austin moved ally forward around the bed, stopping her by the side of the bed. He twisted her, sat her on the edge of the bed. They got into bed with Mimi, with ally in the middle. Mike sat in the armchair beside the bed.

"Well now, this is snug." Mimi said faintly, amused. Ally buried her face into the pillow beside Mimi's neck, her hot tears soaking into the pillowcase.

"Don't cry, darling," Mimi said softly. "There's no reason to cry."

Ally wrapped her arm gently around Mimi, and cried anyway. Austin wrapped his arm around both of them, spooning ally, and they all lay there in silence for a long time.

The combination of Austins amazing apple and cocoa scent, and the smell of Mimi's powdery skin, imprinted the moment in her memory.

She captured the moment in time, filed it away. She vowed to always remember this.

Austin, running his finger along the inside of her arm, felt the intensity of the moment doubly, through his own experience of it, as well as by seeing it through ally's eyes. He closed his eyes tightly against the overwhelming pain and beauty.

But on another plane in his mind, and ever the narcissist, he consoled himself that he had been in her thoughts, and that he smelled so good.

"I'm sorry," ally finally managed. "I just missed you so much."

Mimis soft, motherly voice was soothing and low. "Did you darling? I missed you too. Even though I only saw you a couple of months ago. Now, tell me, how is work going?"

Ally rolled onto her back, sandwiched between the two, Austins chin on her shoulder and his breath drying her tears.

"Work is going OK, I guess. I have a month off." She worked as a court reporter- it was where she had met Elliot. Austin drew in a cross breath at this thought.

"It's going fine. I'm just a bit sick of writing about violence." If she were honest with herself, she hated her job. It was destroying her. Nothing she could pinpoint, just a general decaying of her soul.

She folded away the thought expertly before it unraveled in her mind. Compared to this unbearable pain, her existential crisis was as insignificant as a pebble in her shoe.

"And Austin, darling, are you still working for the New York Times?" Mimi asked, never able to keep track of where he worked.

"No, I'm freelancing at the moment. I got back from Afghanistan three weeks ago."

Austin was a photographer. Ally had heard all about his foray into war photojournalism, both from her weekly emails from Ethan, and also from seeing his photos in Time magazine.

His ability to make a shot of the ordinary into piece of art was incredible. He seemed to see the world in a different way to ordinary people, and it came through in his work. His war photographs were not the usual shots of human misery and grateful villagers and raised flags. The series that was featured in Time captured the strain on the soldiers.

Each shot was imbued with loneliness, longing, the marking of time. Ally had cried at the one image of the young soldier, cradling a photo of his newborn son as though he were holding the child himself. The poignancy reverberated in the black and white image.

From the Time series, austin was nominated for a Brownson, a prestigious International photography prize. Knowing Austin, he probably didn't give a shit. She felt his mouth curl into a smile on the side of her neck.

"Well, I'm glad you're back. It's dangerous over there." Mimi was beginning to sound more like her old self. Motherly. All knowing.

Austin slanted her a look over ally. "I wasn't in any danger."

Ally laughed softly. "Of course, Mimi, don't worry. He's bulletproof, remember?" He pinched her stomach in retaliation.

"And how is… Elliot, isn't it? The man you were dating a few months ago?"

The silence stretched on as ally struggled to think of what to say. She was a hopeless liar. The wind buffeted against the window.

"They broke up." Austin crowed, not even attempting to conceal his triumph. Ally frowned but said nothing.

"Oh dear. He was such a nice young boy." Mimi turned her face towards ally, her eyes kind. "Are you terribly sad?"

"Um, no. He, uh, didn't have enough time for me." It was the first thing she could think of.

"Well, I never thought he was the right one for you anyway. He wasn't good enough for you. Almost no one is." Mimi's voice was starting to fade, her eyelids drooping softly.

Austin smiled wickedly, and ally caught Mikes suspicious look.

"Ummm. Well, I don't know about that!" Ally joked lamely. Austins hand was sliding up under the hem of her sweater, and she forced herself to lay still.

"It's true. You are special, and you need a grand love. True love."

Ally swallowed as Austins hand slid higher, across her quivering stomach, his finger tracing the underwire of her bra. His fingers were hot. He was going to pay for this. He laughed evilly.

"Austin, I know that laugh. Are you tormenting ally?" Mimi chided as her eyes drifted closed. "You must stop it. She's not a toy."

Although she had told him this a million times over the years without effect, this time Austins hand froze on her ribcage, and he withdrew his hand abruptly.

He swallowed audibly. "We'll let you sleep, ma. We're both here to stay now, so we'll see you when you wake up."  
Mimis mouth lifted slightly at the corners as she slipped deeper into sleep.

The bed was so warm, ally didn't want to get out. Her feet were only just starting to thaw. Elliot had been working such long hours, and he had taken to sleeping in their apartment's spare bedroom. So he didn't disturb her when coming home late, he said.

Actually, they hadn't had sex in nearly three months, which she didn't actually mind. Sex with Elliot was perfunctory, a polite exchange. God, she was glad Austin wasn't listening. She really needed to start controlling her thoughts better.

He was making no move to get up, and was lying on his back, the heat of his body engulfing hers.

Ally climbed over Austin, briefly straddling his torso, ignoring his gleefully wiggling eyebrows, and slipped as she tangled her leg in the sheet. Gracelessly, she fell and twisted, landing hard on her back on the floor, wrenched from the heavenly plush eiderdowns and the beautiful scents of those she loved best.

As the breath was knocked out of her, she couldn't help but think that this would be what it would be like when Mimi died. As the tears started to sting yet again, and she gaped frantically for breath, Austin's face appeared above her. His brow was creased, and as he looked her over with real concern, she wanted to cry harder.

But then his eyes sparked with amusement, and he started laughing. His cackles rang in her ears as Mike rushed around and helped her to her feet and walked her down the stairs to her room on the first floor. He was such an asshole.

It hadn't changed a bit. It was called the white room, and it had always been ally's room. She sat on the antique double bed, feeling the familiar old mattress dip, willing her to roll into its ravine- like cradle. It was against one of the coconut white walls, and together with the white lamp, the rugs and the curtains, she had always been reminded of Narnia. The effect was further enhanced by the huge wooden armoire on the far wall.

Austin's bedroom was at the end of the long hallway. His was the gold room. The white room was currently freezing. Mike had gone to try to fiddle with the thermostat.

The door banged open abruptly, and Austin strolled in.

"That was priceless!" He snickered, evidently still laughing about her fall. He kicked the door shut behind him.

"Shut up," she hissed furiously. "I could have hurt myself. I could have broken my neck for all you knew."

"Let Doctor Austin take a look." He rolled up his sleeves exaggeratedly, rubbing his hands together as he advanced on her. Dressed completely in black, he was almost a silhouette, a cut out shape in the ice white room.

"Please knock next time, by the way," she told him, scooting to the far side of the bed, against the wall, out of his reach.

"I could have been getting changed or something."

"Oooh, I'll definitely never knock then." He laughed mockingly.

"Be serious for once, Austin. This whole… Plan… is ridiculous. You heard Mimi's yourself; she was sorry I had broken up with Elliot. I want to tell her the truth."

Austin put his knee on the bed and started to crawl towards her, his face from mirth to menacing in the blink of an eye.

"You will not."

"But you heard her…" Ally sat with her back against the wall, her heart starting to quicken.

"I heard her say that almost no one is good enough for you. What she meant was, the only one good enough for you is me." Austin lay down heavily on his stomach, face down in her lap. "You have to keep pretending."

He paused, his voice muffled in her thighs. "Or at least START pretending, for goodness sakes. You have to stop crying, and start acting like you're into me."

He rolled over, closed his eyes, and ally stared down at his face, her hair curtaining around them. He sighed, his restless body finally still. She lay her hands on his temples. She rarely saw him like this. Relaxed, and not angry.

"You relax me," he told her. She couldn't imagine how; most of his life had been dedicated to guarding her, possessing her, which must have taken a huge amount of energy.

"Especially when you got tits," he said huskily. "I was beating those asswipes at High School with a stick."

He always said things like that and ally knew better than to be flattered. His mouth was as soft and as she smoothed her fingers over his brow. She wondered at how he did not have frown lines by now. He traveled all over the world, had experienced so much, yet his face was unlined, his skin a confection of golden white.

His beauty pierced her and she snatched her hands away. He could only hear if their skin touched. Still, he had heard a trace of the thought, and he opened his eyes.

"Thank you. You're looking pretty good yourself." He gazed at her speculatively, and she realized she was close enough to see the tiny yellow flecks around his pupils.

Exasperated, she shook her head at him.

"Look, there's going to be no problem acting like we're falling in love." Austin propped himself up on one elbow, put his hand on the back of her head, drew her face down to his.

"See, like this." He touched his lips to hers, and the electrical charge between them made her draw back in fright.

"Interesting…." He observed, his eyelids drooping sexily, licking his lips.

"I didn't hear you so well then, I wasn't concentrating. I wonder what you thought of that. Try again." He tugged softly on her hair and the pleasure of his fingers sliding, twisting gently into her hair and against her scalp made her eyes flutter.

He had kissed her several times during their teenage years, experimentally, and she had almost forgotten what it was like. Like every atom in her body had simultaneously vibrated. She pulled back.

"No, Austin, I'm engaged to Elliot. I have made a commitment to Elliot."

Her voice shook with conviction, and Austin's eyes darkened. He wrapped an arm around her waist, dragged her across his body and rolled smoothly to pin her on her back. She was alarmed to feel his hard erection pressing against her thigh, and she struggled, imprisoned under his heavy, muscled body.

"Stop saying shit like that. You know it makes me mad." He growled roughly against her neck.

"It's always made me mad. You're not for anyone else; you're for me. And you're not going to be able to remember that jerkoff's name by the time I get through with you." As his velvet tongue slid down her neck, and Ally felt her nipples tighten in response, alarm bells began to sound. She was in trouble.

"You sure are," he agreed, sucking lightly on her collarbone, his soft, full lips dropping open mouthed kisses.

His fingers were inching her sweater further down her shoulder. She wrapped her hands around his wrists, in a feeble attempt to push him off, but he gently entwined his fingers in hers, lifting her arms above her head as he thrust his hips against hers, causing her to react mindlessly; to arch infinitesimally against him. Her brain whirled as he nibbled on her black bra strap, his stubble scratching softly on her shoulder.

This was getting out of control, fast, and her inner voice of reason was rapidly fading; probably hopelessly seduced as well. He was dominating her, pressing her down onto the soft bed, and she raised her hand to his head, into the luxurious hair at the nape of his neck. Her breath was coming in strangled gasps, and she forced her mind to think. She should stop this, _could_ stop this, she ordered herself in desperation.

"No, don't stop this," he whispered, his tone a broken plea she had never heard before as he framed her shoulders with his hands, using his knee to part her legs. He pressed his thigh against her; she was sure he would be able to feel her heat through her jeans.

"Mmm-hmmm," he affirmed huskily. "It's delicious." He pushed against her again slowly, deliberately, bracing himself over her on his forearms, his open mouth on her temple. If they were naked right now, he would be sliding inside her.

"I am finally going to have you," he whispered, his breath growing ragged as he flexed his hips against hers, their bodies seeking friction, and ally's stomach clutched in response. The insane, dizzying pleasure was completely clouding her brain. She knew this was wrong, but was powerless to stop as the tidal wave of lust crashed over them, consuming them. She felt her underwear growing damp.

Austin groaned, his erection almost painfully hard against her. His mint green eyes were so close to hers, and his eyes dropped to her lips, flickered back to her eyes, and then began lowering his mouth to hers. She knew that once she tasted his mouth, there would be no stopping, no turning back. They would have sex, right here, probably within minutes of this kiss.

The anticipation of pleasure hummed in her veins and suddenly she was ravenous for him, to taste him, to consume him. This was a strange, alternate universe she had stumbled into, suspended in white, pressed down by black. It was so close to her darkest, wettest fantasies, there was no right or wrong.

This simply was.

A sharp knock on the door made her start in panic. She froze.

"Ally?" Mikes voice was soft from the other side of the heavy door. "Ally, do you want to come downstairs for something to eat?"

She opened her mouth, drew in a breath that couldn't reach her lungs.

"Tell him you'll be down in an hour, you're just having a bit of a lie down." Austin rasped, his delicious breath bathing her lips. He licked her bottom lip, causing her to shudder delicately.

His eyes found hers, and it was the amused triumph in them that brought her crashing back to Earth. She had seen this expression before countless times, as he climbed in through her window in their teenage years, reeking of cheap Revlon perfume.

"I'll be right down, Mike," she finally found her voice. Austin closed his eyes, his hands on either side of her face curling into fists.

"Alright, if you see Austin, tell him the same." Mike's footsteps retreated.

"I'm not doing this with you." She told him shakily, sliding out from underneath him. "I can't do this. I'm not just a toy for you to play with." She echoed Mimi's earlier words, pulling her clothes back into place.

"Cockblocked by my own father…" Austin muttered in disbelief, as she staggered across the room and left him, lying there face down, his face buried in her pillow.

* * *

**A/N thank you for the reviews of this story. I'm glad you like it as much as I do. As always let me know if you want me to keep going with this story.**


	6. Chapter 6

**I do not own this story it belongs to the black arrow so all credit to them. **

**I do not own Austin and Ally or anything else you may recognize**

**Chapter Five: Armchair Confessional**

Ally hurried down the hallway, panting, away from austin who was still lying, groaning and complaining, on her bed in the white room.

Her blood pulsed hotly in her veins, her skin hypersensitive, the air chilling the skin his mouth had heated. She paused in front of the speckled antique mirror at the top of the stairs, her mouth dropping open in alarm at her reflection.

Austins hands had tangled her hair into wild, twisted sex hair. She shakily combed the thick brown mass into some sort of order with her fingers, wound it all into a messy knot. Her mouth was swollen and pink, even though they had only briefly touched lips, and her pupils were so dilated her eyes were almost black.

She stared at her reflection, barely recognizing herself, brushing her lips with shaking fingers.

She ran down the stairs, taking them two at a time, her thoughts jumbled and disjointed. God knows what would have happened if Mike had not knocked. She couldn't stop her brain from conjuring up all the possibilities; nearly all of them utterly pornographic. Her stomach fluttered at the thought. She paused at the foot of the stairs to catch her breath.

Deep breath in, hold, breathe out. Repeat. Her cheeks were burning hot.

Ally ducked under the stairs, to the little hiding place that she, Austin and Ethan had favoured as children. There was still a big, square cushion there, and she curled up tightly, wrapping her arms around her legs.

She would have dinner with Mike soon, but first she needed to get herself together. She doubted she would be able to form a coherent sentence right now.

She cringed as the surreal scene on her bed replayed on a loop in her head. Hands, lips, tongue, teeth. His flavour was still tangible, on the tip of her tongue, the sweet perfume of his lips traced over her neck and shoulder. She was dragging his scent into her lungs with each breath.

She had just come very close to being unfaithful to Elliot. She was a cheater. Well, maybe not exactly a cheater, because she hadn't instigated the kiss. And it only lasted a fraction of a second. Maybe that didn't count?

But she was making excuses, and the fact remained that she hadn't been very effective in putting a stop to Austins other attempts at seduction. She had been on the cusp of pushing him onto _his _back, straddling his hips, holding _him_ down, ravaging _him_.

Her body, which she had been on polite terms with for so long, was now aching and shameless, begging her to stand up, return upstairs, and rip the cotton t shirt from his torso, toss the shreds on the floor, hold his hands over his head.

Cheater, she reprimanded herself harshly. Well, nearly. She worried back and forth over this for quite some time, wondering if this was the sort of thing one discussed with a fiancé. Was she obliged to report this incident? She tried to imagine that excruciating conversation, and also tried to imagine how she would react if roles were reversed, and Elliot had been rolling around with a childhood friend.

Ally was surprised to realize that it didn't even cause a pang inside her. That was probably because their relationship was so solid, so mature and steady, she reassured herself. Her capacity to feel jealousy, ownership, was long burned out of her.

She checked her cell phone out of habit; Elliot had still not responded to her earlier text. She shoved it back into her pocket, put her face into her hands, closed her eyes against the images of Austin crawling across her bed, tried to remind herself that he was just playing his favourite game. She sat, wrapped up in herself, breathing the dust and memories under the stairs.

*o*o*o*o*o*o

Austin had plenty of practice at this particular pastime, and rumour had it that he excelled. During their adolescence, he had worked his way diligently and somewhat methodically through the extremely willing female population. Classmates, friends' sisters, substitute teachers, French tutors- each became a notch on his wearied bedpost and a small fissure in ally's heart.

She knew he would never be faithful to anyone, let alone someone as plain and average as she was. She had heard these exact words spoken from the mouth of a girl crying in the locker rooms. What did he see in ally, the girl had cried scornfully, while her friends tried to console her. Ally had hid in a stall, fully clothed, until they had gone.

Ally had chosen to stand on the sidelines of Austins life. While he always returned to her, was her best friend, her confidant, her protector and her jailor, she always knew she would never be able to capture him in return. So, she locked away that foolish part of her heart, and froze it off, and tried not to think of it lest he heard the thought.

Sometimes she tried to console herself that he must somehow love her best, as he crawled into her bed, smelling like winter air and liquor and campfire smoke, falling asleep almost instantly, curled around her with his fingers entwined in hers. She knew he loved her, but wasn't sure if it was enough. Was it love like a twin, or love of convenience? She never knew. She had been doomed to never be satisfied.

And unsatisfied she was. Ally spent high school untouched, untouchable, sexually frustrated and occasionally a target for Austins scornful seduction. He knew that his lean, muscled body and heavenly scent provoked a strange tangle of unlabelled emotions and lust, and took to flirting heavily and attempting liberties whenever he was bored or so inclined.

Puberty had been kind to ally, and she had bloomed into a fragile beauty, with milk-white skin and delicate pink stained-glass blushes. Her figure had gone from featureless to surprisingly lush curves within a few months before her sixteenth birthday. Nobody had been more astonished or fascinated than Austin, and she became clumsy under his intense, hazel stare, her cheeks almost constantly burning pink as his hands lingered on her waist as they walked down the hall at school.

If she had known at the time that even walking down the hall would cause boys to hold their breath and furtively catalog her movements with undetectable, lightening fast glances, she would have never been able to leave the bathrooms from mortification. Her suddenly rounded hips, backside and breasts had suddenly made her an imaginary participant in dozens of sweaty pubescent male fantasies.

Austin cataloged each flickering glance coldly, and was torn between flaunting his good fortune and wrapping her with a woolen blanket.

The majority of the girls at school told themselves that they did not understand her appeal; _they_ could not see anything special in plain ally. She only wore jeans, and didn't dye her hair. She read books at lunchtime while sitting alone in the bleachers, with Austins jacket around her shoulders, while Austin played various sports with varying levels of intensity, or while he skulked and smoked with friends at a distance.

If Austin and the boys at school were watching ally, the girls were analyzing Austin with surveillance powers that rivaled state security. They would have used an ankle bracelet to track him if they could.

In a small town like this, where the newspaper front pages proclaimed record logging profits, the girls had a lot of time on their hands. They watched in the afternoon as Austin and ally walked alone towards the bus stop.

They sighed as he lifted a hand, twirled ally as though partway through a dance, heard ally's clear, lovely laugh. Look at how he lifted her hair from her neck, kissed her nose and eyelids so slow, so soft, as she clutched at the front of his jacket. Lucky bitch. Wonder what he's saying to her. He was so gorgeous. So charming. So romantic.

The girls had initially assured themselves that Austin was protective of ally in a brotherly way. This position was amended when it was granted that brothers did not walk with their fingers in their sister's clothing, not in this State anyway.

She must be his girlfriend, they debated as they painted their toenails coral during inane giggling sleepovers. Why else would he get into fights and be suspended from school over her? Ally was deemed the passive sort of doormat that would tolerate some cheating on his part.

She seemed so indifferent to him anyway, Lord knows how. It was impossible.

The look on boys' faces as they edged around ally in the cafeteria, eyes carefully averted, was more reminiscent of animals edging away from a claimed territory. They understood.

Ally had actually managed a few flirtations and mild crushes before Austin intervened; usually lasting only a day or two before her mind accidentally strayed to these thoughts while he was stroking her neck on the bus, or their fingers entwined as they made the long walk from the foot of the driveway to the Moon house.

His reaction would vary: sometimes he would laugh, sometimes he would explode.

His worst possible reaction was silence.

*o*o*o*o*o*o

Here, under the stairs, ally cringed away from the insidious, bitter memory, but it wisped into her mind and put a layer of sickness in her stomach, as if it had happened only yesterday, not nearly ten years ago.

_He entered the white room without knocking, without looking at her directly._

"_When they ask, I was in here all night, writing my paper on the Industrial Revolution." Austin threw himself down onto her bed, letting out a deep sigh, leafing through a battered textbook. Ally's heart jolted in her chest at the sight of his swollen hand, the dried blood. It might actually be broken this time. _

"Austin_, you cannot keep doing this," she whispered urgently, pleading, standing over him with a roll of gauze. _

_He glared up at her and held out his hand. "I have to do this."_

Such disturbing vignettes only showed half of Austins soul, the half that lay in shadows. But ally had a million beautiful memories of him that laid bare the light of his soul, moments that allowed her to glimpse his fathomless depths, his unshakable love. How deeply he felt each and every emotion that blew through his body like hurricanes, eruptions, quakes. It hurt too much to remember the good memories. They pierced too deep.

Austins uncontrollable desire to completely possess those that he loved was both his best quality and his worst fault.

His love, once earned, was depthless, permanent, intense, and he loved few- probably because he simply had no more energy. But his drive to own and control was exhausting.

His eternal vigilance cost him dearly. As a little boy, he used to study Mimi as she hugged ally- did she love ally more than him? Was Carlisle spending more time with Ethan? Why would Ethan rather hang around with his baseball friends than him? Why would ally tell Ethan things, and not him?

Jealousy made him near impossible to live with. It was only his family, and ally, who could properly understand him, could see the love beneath the control, and work out ways to deal with his irrational heart.

Ally emerged from under the stairs, sufficiently calmed down and hoped fervently she still didn't look like Porno ally. She padded down the hallway in her socks and found Mike in the kitchen. He was putting the finishing touches on a vat of spaghetti.

"Ah, there you are," he said, smiling. "Did you see Austin?"

Ally edged forward and perched on a stool at the table. "No, I didn't see him."

"What a liar," Austin countered as he skidded into the room in his usual burst of energy. "I was nearly getting a kiss off her when you banged on the door."

Allys face burned and she wearily put her face in her palms.

"He's joking, Mike," she eventually managed. How mortifying.

"I never joke about such things," Austin countered cheekily, and she glowered at him through her fingers.

Mike frowned at Austin. "Stop taunting her, Austin."

"Oh, but I've only just gotten started taunting her. I'd forgotten how enjoyable it is." Austin hooked a leg around the stool next to ally's, dragged it closer to her, and sat, his thighs framing hers. He took her hand and massaged her bare ring finger, smiling faintly. Ally could see signs of strain around his eyes. He looked tired.

Mike shook his head, expertly dividing the spaghetti between three plates, somehow doing the task so neatly the steel bench top remained immaculate.

"I will never understand you two. Ally, all I can do is apologize as always for my insufferably smug, sleazy son."

Ally accepted her bowl of spaghetti and grinned at Mike. "If I had a dollar for every time you've said that to me…" she snorted.

"You'd have, what, one fucking dollar. Look," Austin said, his leg jiggling as his irritation spiked, "I've changed. I'm not that guy anymore."

Mike burst out laughing. He sounded like he hadn't used his laugh in a long time; it was a rusty sound and he cleared his throat immediately after it. "Austin, I'll believe that when I see it."

They all twirled spaghetti on their forks in silence, each thinking separate thoughts.

Ally's thoughts were still all tangled. She had no idea if Austin could ever change. She supposed that she was just a big joke to him; he would drop her the moment she was no longer useful as usual.

She wondered at the spark she had felt when their lips had briefly touched. Wondered what her mind sounded like to him. Longed for Ethan and Kira to arrive, so there would be more people in the house, less opportunity to be caught alone.

Mike was noticing how Austin always wrapped his body around ally's, and remembered the concerned discussions they had had with ally's dad when the kids were teenagers. How his worst nightmare had been Austin impregnating ally under his roof. How his attempts at chaperoning and keeping them apart had been futile against Austins relentless scheming and scary intelligence.

He set down his fork, remembering the doomed attempt to send ally to boarding school. He and Mimi had even paid half of ally's tuition for the term- it was the least they could do. Their son was consuming her, and she needed at least a chance to get free of him. Austin still managed to sabotage this move, and ally was returned to them.

The conversations- apologies- with Lester after that particular incident were still mortifying for Mike to recall.

He watched Austin, who watched ally.

Austin was strategizing, as always, and occasionally putting his finger on ally's inner wrist under the table, as though checking her pulse, savouring the delicious flavour of her thoughts and filing away her questions about him for future use. The years they had been apart had simultaneously changed nothing, and yet he was in unfamiliar territory.

The sight of that engagement ring had almost stopped his heart in his chest. He wasn't totally clueless; he hadn't expected her to _wait_ exactly. He had just thought that it would be easier to pick up where they left off; that the connection between them would make her walk away from anyone else, back to him.

She should only ever be walking to him.

*o*o*o*o*o*o

They spent the rest of the evening in the sitting room. Mimi was sleeping. Mike went upstairs to sit with her. Ally sat, reading her old copy of Wuthering Heights in the squashy green armchair. She glanced at her watch, wondering if it were too late to call Elliot.

Austin was at the dining table, his laptop on, and appeared to be working through a series of photographs, sorting them into different folders.

"What will you work on next?" Ally asked.

Austin let out a dark sigh. "I'm going to do an Italian Vogue shoot. I want quick money right now, but I'd rather take shots of a village being bombed than a weird editorial of seven foot women wearing fucked up dresses made of picnic rugs."

Ally laughed, stretched in her chair. "But surely being surrounded by models is some small consolation."

He said nothing, just frowned and continued flicking through images quickly.

"Are you seeing anyone at the moment?" Ally asked, not sure if she wanted to know, but also knowing that perhaps they could get back to some sort of neutral ground. He needed to remember that despite participating in this charade for Mimi's sake, she was unavailable. Maybe he was too, and she could remind him of it.

"Not really. For some reason, the last one got annoyed when I left during the night to get a flight to Sri Lanka." He slapped shut the laptop abruptly and crossed the room to sit on the little sofa on the other side of the fire, opposite her.

"Not even a twelve page spread with shots of Tamil Tigers headquarters could convince her I wasn't cheating." He slipped down to lie flat, hanging his legs over the arm of the sofa. He considered this.

"Even though I was, actually." He smiled and closed his eyes. Ally shook her head. Nothing about him would shock her.

He had changed into pyjamas; thick, soft black flannel pants with skulls and crossbones ("very hardcore" commented ally. "Fuck you" he had countered good humouredly), black waffle weave long sleeved top, no socks.

His hair was lit auburn by the fire light. Ally had changed into black leggings and an oversized grey t-shirt she wore to yoga sometimes. She had given up trying to adjust it; it kept slipping off one shoulder. She had on thick socks. Her hair was still in a knot on top of her head.

"You look like you're going to a ballet class," Austin said after a while. Ally smiled, still reading, and pointed her leg out, toe straight, like a ballerina. Silence continued, punctuated by crackles from the fire, the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall.

Ally found it increasingly hard to read with Austin staring at her. He huffed and sighed several times and stretched, seeking attention. Ally continued staring at the page, hoping she looked like she was reading.

"Stop reading that for the billionth time. Talk to me." His legs swung in irritation. "Why haven't we seen each other for six years?"

Ally closed the book, studied the back cover, tried to think of what to say.

"No editing, Ally Dawson, you know I hate that. Come here." He patted the sliver of couch beside him.

"No, Austin. I'm used to having some privacy these days."

"I'll be good. I won't peek." He smiled innocently.

"Austin, you can never help yourself."

She pulled her engagement ring out; it was on a chain around her neck. Austins expression turned livid. She smiled.

"Don't say anything, Austin. I'm entitled to wear this."

"Why are you engaged? Is it because of me?"

"Austin, not everything in this world is about you." Ally ran the ring along the chain, irritated with his self obsession, deliberately antagonizing him. He watched the movement.

"It should be." He paused. "Yours should be."

"Ha! That's always been part of your problem." Ally held out the ring, examining it in the firelight, watching the depths sparkle and dance.

She knew she was being cruel, but finally having something over him was making her feel powerful, bold.

"Oh, I have a problem do I?" Austin hauled himself up off his sofa, crossed the short distance to her, knelt in between her legs in front of her armchair. He took the ring out of her grip and pulled it.

The fragile chain gave easily. His eyes widened, and then he laughed. She gaped at him, grabbed wildly for it as he held her back. He swung the ring back and forth.

"Austin, that hurt!" He continued to swing the ring mockingly, though his hand did rub the slight sting on the back of her neck in silent apology. How his fingers were so hot in such a cold room, she didn't know.

"I have a problem, you were telling me. enlighten me."

"You know you have a problem." She unsuccessfully tried to shrug out from under his hand.

"Of course I've got a problem, Dr Phil. My mother's fucking dying. Very fucking insightful."

"But are you happy, aside from that? How is it possible that you are? You're still self obsessed. You haven't grown up one day since I left."  
Ally sat back, her voice quiet now. His fingers slipped from her neck.

"I'd be a lot happier if you'd call this Elliot fucker, and tell him it's over. I'd be a lot happier if we went and buried that ring in the garden, and went up to my room and had sex fifteen times." His eyes went black, and they held each other's gaze.

He wrapped his hand around her neck again as the image of them, naked on his bedroom floor, flashed through her mind. His mouth on her stomach. Her legs wrapped around his hips. Against the wall. Windowsill. Balcony. Bed. Tearing cloth.

"Your fantasy seems vaguely accurate," he said, his voice rough in her ear.

"When I have you at long, long last," his lips found her earlobe, sucked it softly with his beautiful mouth, "I won't have to stop myself- Like I've been stopping myself for the last decade. Do you know how good it will be? Experiencing your pleasure, through your mind and your voice? It's going to be incredible…"

His hand slipped down, cupping her breast, his thumb pressing down lightly on her hard nipple, making her jump slightly at the spark as he simultaneously scraped her earlobe softly with his teeth.

"I'll know what you want before you will." His erection ground into her inner thigh, hard and heavy.

Ally made one final stab at sanity. Before he took her, right here on this armchair, with Mike likely to walk in at any moment. Her breath was ragged; her pulse pounding in her ears. His fingers were already sliding over her, one finger tugging at the waistband of her leggings.

"Austin, if you're going to be ridiculous, I'm going to go find a hotel to stay at while I'm here." Ally pushed him back, pointed at her ring that was discarded on the rug.

"Give me your phone. I'll ring him myself." His eyes gleamed, and lowered his mouth to hers, licking her bottom lip. His breath bathed her face. Before she could draw a proper breath, he lowered his mouth to hers again, and finally kissed her properly.

The pleasure was indescribable. His mouth was hot and tasted like him; spicy apples. His plump lower lip expertly nipped and toyed, sucking her lower lip in between his, causing a breathless moan to shudder from her. She felt him half smile, and he moved closer, preparing to kiss deeper, to stop teasing. His large hands cupped her jaw, and her body reeled as the concentrated intensity of a lifetime of lust flamed into one kiss.

She felt like she was spiraling down into black. He slanted his mouth across hers, his teeth scraping her bottom lip. Her mouth opened as she frantically gasped for air, tasting only him, and he groaned into her, sliding his velvet tongue against hers.

She wasn't even aware that her hands had risen, and she was twisting her fingers in his hair, tugging at the thick silk, alternately pulling him away, and pressing him closer. Her body pulsed in agonized need, clouding her mind, causing her to move against his erection again, seeking friction.

Austin thrust against her open thighs obligingly, wildly frustrated, wanting to tear away the layers of fabric, to finally feel her, finally slide into her. He slid one hand down to the waistband of her leggings again, trying to drag the stretchy material out of the way, fighting the inner voice that told him to rip. His need was painful; his cock seemed to throb in time with her ragged breathing.

He deepened the kiss, trying to decide what she tasted like. Cupcake icing, vanilla, cream? Or was it more like some sort of faint butterscotch? Something he had never tasted before, but it was delicious.

Coherent thoughts were beginning to leave his mind and he turned his attention to the thoughts scattering through hers. He had been right; listening to her mind whilst kissing her was the most erotic experience of his life. It was like a kaleidoscope of lust, fear, trembling, need, but also a strange sense that he was finally doing something right. Something that needed to be done. He couldn't distinguish if it was his thought or hers.

"There wasn't one day in those fucking six years that I didn't think of you," he whispered huskily against her mouth, "I used to dream of you..." He pulled the leggings down one of her hips, his fingers hooking into the lace that wrapped around her.

He felt like he would die if he wasn't inside her soon. Now.

It snapped her back to reality. She pushed him off again. "No, I'm not doing this."

He panted against her throat, his eyes closed, feeling like he had lost something. Finally he was able to speak.

"Then answer my question, ally. Why haven't we seen each other for six fucking years?"

"You know why. New Years Eve." He pulled back from her minutely, frowning at her.

"What do you mean?" He ran his hand through his hair, and her fingers tingled at the knowledge of what it felt like to do just that.

"You know exactly what I mean. After that New Year's Eve, you didn't try to contact me. Nothing. It was five months before I even got a text message from you, and you were drunk. My feelings were really hurt, Austin, and you owed me an apology. You were having sex with my best friend, on the bed that I'm going to have to sleep in tonight. I finally felt like I might have meant something to you that night, as I climbed the stairs to that fucking room. And I didn't. I was going to give you my virginity that night, you asshole."

Her voice broke, and she closed her eyes from his stare. He opened his mouth to speak but she pressed her hand on his swollen lips. She raised her eyebrows, and continued, feeling both humiliated but also finding it cathartic, getting this all out between them.

"So, I was left looking like a complete fool as usual, and I went to college, and you just dropped off the face of the Earth, calling me from wherever you were on the globe on those rare occasions when you deigned to think of me, and you were usually drunk and horny, attempting phone sex like I was slightly better than nothing."

He was getting irritated. "I just said, I thought of you every single day. No matter where I was. You were with me."

She shook her head. "But I didn't know that, did I? You made no effort. You cut yourself off from all of us. You didn't even go to Ethan and Kira's wedding for goodness sake." Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them away furiously.

"I wasn't even in the United States, as I recall."

Austin began rubbing his eyes to hide his face from hers. The conversation had veered into uncomfortable territory, and he was still drunk from the taste of her. He couldn't think properly. He leaned against her, wishing he could fix this, make her smile. The gulf was too wide.

"You could have made it back if you'd wanted to. You have always been exactly where you wanted to be. Why didn't you?" Ally sat rigid as his hot, open mouth settled on a pulse point where her neck met her shoulder.

Finally, he spoke, his voice deceptively light.

"Weddings, I fucking hate them. I do, you do, let's do photos, eat dinner, say a speech, eat a cake, dance to shithouse music. I catch the garter, you catch the bouquet, go home. What's the big deal? I saw the fairly poor quality photos, and I might say, sent them a fuckload of cash as a present."

He pulled back, kissed her lightly on the mouth.

"You are unbelievable." Ally shook her head. "You are the most selfish person I have ever met."

"You got that right," drawled Ethan, stepping in from the hallway.

Ally sincerely hoped he had not been there long.

**R&amp;R**


	7. Chapter 7

**I hope you like this chapter. Thank you for all the reviews and I'm glad you love this story as much as I do. **

**Again I do not own anything. The story belongs to the black arrow I'm just changing names to fit the Austin and ally fandom.**

**I do not own Austin and ally or anything else you may recognize**

* * *

"**Love sees sharply, hatred sees even more sharp, but jealousy sees the sharpest for it is love and hate at the same time" ****_-Arab Proverb_**

**Chapter Six: The Sharpest**

Ally shoved Austin away from her, knocking him back onto his ass, refusing to acknowledge Ethan's arched eyebrows and jumped up, tripping over Austin in her haste to get away from him.

"Ethan!"

She launched herself at him, and Ethan's laughter in her ear almost deafened her as he swung her up off the ground, her feet dangling near his knees.

"Ally cat!"

They snickered at the idiotic nickname and he shook her around for a bit, like a dog gently mauling a rabbit. A heavily pregnant Kira stood behind Ethan in the doorway, her lovely face all creased. She had obviously been asleep in the car. She dropped an enormous yellow handbag on the floor with a thud and a faint breaking sound.

Austin, sprawled on the floor, scowled at the easy display of affection. He didn't like how Ally squeezed her eyes shut, put her cheek on Ethan's shoulder. She looked like she loved him. It was certainly different from the reception _he_ had gotten earlier in the field.

"Give her back," he said in a clipped, cross voice, his suddenly itchy fingertips scratching the Persian rug that had grown warm before the fire. He sounded exactly like he was ten years old again, skulking underneath Ethan's tree house, demanding they unfurl the rope ladder, formulating increasingly elaborate threats as ally and Ethan lay side by side with silent tears of laughter running down their cheeks.

Ethan shook his head at Austin, swung Ally back and forth, grinning.

Austin looked away, exasperated.

Ally stared down from Ethan's shoulder in astonishment. "Oh, my gosh! Kira, you're huge!" She blurted. "I mean, glowing." Kira looked like she had a beach ball under her clothes.

"I'll take that as a compliment. I think." Kira said, rolling her eyes and holding out her arms to her.

Ethan set ally down and the two women pressed kisses on each other's cheeks; Kira chilled, ally burning.

"You said you'd call me when you arrived safely," Kira chided, pulling ally's top back onto her shoulder, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ears. She examined ally's flushed face, her feverishly bright eyes.

"I'm sorry, I forgot." Ally leaned into Kira, inhaling Chanel.

They wrapped their arms around each other and watched the brothers.

Austin still lay sprawled on the rug, and backlit by the fire, his expression was unreadable. His hair was a mess, and ally was reminded of horns.

Ethan crossed to Austin and held his hand out, pulling him to his feet. He gave Austin a hard hug, but instantly recoiled.

"Ugh, dude, you have a boner. Did we just interrupt something?"

The silence was piercing. Sexual tension layered heavy over everything.

Ally stared fixedly at the painting over the fireplace to distract herself from the excruciating embarrassment. She strictly forbade her eyes to stray to any part of Austin, though they kept starting to drift down of their own accord. The painting, titled The Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog, depicted a black clad man's rear profile, standing on rocks over roiling mist. His face wasn't visible, but depending on ally's mood, he appeared to be conquering, desolate, wrathful, resigned, heartsick. Mimi always told a story at dinner parties that when ally was little, she thought it was a painting of Austin.

Kira and Ethan exchanged glances at the incriminating silence.

Finally, Austin responded. "What can I say? Pregnant chicks do it for me. Come here, gorgeous." He raised his eyebrows lasciviously, not in the least embarrassed.

Kira pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, muffling her sweet, squeaky giggle. "I'm not going anywhere near you in those pj pants. That's obscene. Were you dry humping ally again?"

Austin was endlessly amused by Kira. "Always. I never stop if I can help it." He caught ally's eye, held it, his smile fading.

"Well, anyway, it's nice to see you again, even if we could all wish for better circumstances. Although, if you hang around, you might get to see your new niece or nephew pretty soon. " Kira folded her hands on her huge bump, smiling to herself. The firelight gilded her dark hair, her slightly fuller cheeks making her look somehow younger. She stood placidly, yawning, holding out her limbs obediently as Ethan and Ally peeled various coats and scarves and vests from her body. She rested her hand on Ethan's back as he pulled off her sheepskin boots and watched wordlessly as he set them on the hearth.

"You need to go to bed, honey," Ethan said, tracing under her eyes with his fingers. He lowered his face, and Kira kissed him on the tip of his nose.

"Come and tuck me in ally," Kira said, leading her from the room. "Leave the boys to talk." Ally trailed behind her, carrying her heavy handbag for her, beyond grateful to be saved.

As they disappeared down the hallway, Ethan and Austin could clearly hear Kira stage-whispering, "Did we just hear you say he called wanting phone sex?"

*o*o*o*o*o*o

"What's up, brother?" Ethan rubbed his hands by the fire, shrugging off his enormous lumberjack coat. "Other than the obvious, I mean."

Austin laughed and wandered over to the side cabinet and grabbed a crystal decanter, pouring two enormous glasses of scotch. He loved the cliché of it.

"Same old, same old." Austin settled in the armchair, Ethan took the sofa. His slightly craggy, weathered face was softened by the fire. He looked like a farmer, a prize fighter, a wood chopping contestant, a prison guard. In reality, he was a counselor; mainly for teenagers. Parents found that their teenage boys respected him enough to at least not walk out of the room.

He was the Rock of Gibraltar in a roiling sea of human emotion; had always been this way, even since he was a boy. Constancy and patience was woven into his fabric, and he sat unmoving, taking in the room. The floor to ceiling bookcases required a ladder for the top shelves. The smell of the leather book bindings and furniture polish made everything seem old fashioned and timeless. The painting over the fire glowed pink and grey, the only softening touch to what was a masculine, dark room.

Austin swirled his liquor, clearly channeling his inner Bond villain.

"How's ma?" Ethan took a tiny sip from his glass, held it on his tongue before swallowing it, trying not to cough at the trickle of fire it traced down to his stomach. He breathed out unsteadily through his nose. He didn't actually want the scotch- he needed coffee, and badly, but didn't want to make a big deal out of it. Austin would lampoon him. There wasn't even a houseplant to tip it into.

Austin poured half his scotch down his throat. Ethan was both alarmed and unwillingly a bit impressed. The guy looked like he used the stuff instead of mouthwash. He filed it away, deciding to monitor Austin's alcohol consumption. Adding alcohol would be like touching a lit match to that dynamite temper.

"She was happy to see ally. She was a bit more chatty. But still… not long now." Austin stared into the remaining amber liquid, wearing his customary frown.

Ethan felt nothing but the suffocating squeeze that filled his lungs and throat whenever he thought of his mother. He tried to wash away the feeling away with another few drops of scotch.

"So. Ally. Would you care to tell me what was going on in here?" Ethan got to the point.

Austins frown turned into a scowl. His eyes flashed in warning.

"None of your fucking business."

"Damn straight it's my business. That girl is like my kid sister. If you hurt her again, I'll crush you." Ethan's tone was teasing, but it had a note of steel.

"Well, thankfully for me, she isn't our kid sister. Otherwise, I'd be a pervert. Gosh, she's looking hot. And I don't know why you think I'd hurt her. I've only ever done what was best for her." Austin paused. "What do you mean by _again_, anyway?"

Ethan shook his head. "She was crushed after that stunt you pulled with Cassidy that New Years Eve. You had to know she had a crush on you."

"Oh, fuck me. Today is just about how much of a shit I am." Austin hooked one leg over the edge of the armchair, and tugged on his hair, his temper sparking, his defenses causing him to visibly prickle. His teeth were scraping at his lip, his fingernails scratching the old green upholstery. His foot began tapping in the air. "Just drop it."

Ethan was fascinated by his brother. He had never met anyone like him. Through his work, he met hundreds of people a year and was attuned to the shifts in a person's body language. He could tell if they were lying, defensive, angry, unbalanced. For someone so secretive and controlling, Austin seemed unaware that he gave himself away so often, Ethan mused. Watching Austin get angry was like watching a snake getting angry. He seemed to vibrate from it, like he would strike at any moment.

Ethan decided to provoke him, to try to get him to talk. It sometimes worked. Austin never wanted to talk about anything below the surface.

"No, I'm not going to drop it. You're bad for her, Austin, so back the fuck off her. You're just using her, like always." Ethan watched, gauging whether his words had hit their mark.

Austin narrowed his eyes, his whole body going still. He said nothing.

Ethan tried again. "You can't be trying to get in her pants, not now. It's too late."

Austin relaxed, quirked an eyebrow and drank his remaining scotch in a gulp. "It's never too late. I could kick your ass for showing up when you did. I was just getting somewhere." He stretched nonchalantly.

"She's engaged, you know, right?" Pay dirt, Ethan thought, as Austins temper finally flashed in his eyes. They darkened to a murderous bottle green. This was one angry snake.

Austins hand tightened on the crystal tumbler, his fingers white. In that instant, he looked like he was going to throw it against the wall behind Ethan, who inwardly braced. Instead, he very deliberately placed it on a side table, and leant forward to retrieve the diamond ring and the snapped chain which lay forgotten on the rug. He held it aloft with two fingers.

"This thing makes me sick." He studied it with a kind of distasteful fascination.

"Why is it on the floor?" Ethan watched Austins mouth quirk with a ghost of a smile.

"Because I threw it there."

"Austin, you are a frigging caveman. You _know_that's insane. Normal people don't do things like that."

Austin laughed. "I would never claim to be normal." He swung the ring back and forth on the chain, like a pendulum.

Ethan persisted, undaunted by Austins flippancy.

"Ripping a ring off her hand doesn't change anything. She's taken now. Let her be. Elliot's pretty nice. A bit stuffy, but overall a nice guy. We even stayed at their apartment for a few nights when we were in Portland last year."

The tendons stood out on Austins forearms. "I don't want to know. I don't care if he's a frigging saint. If I meet him, I'll probably kill him."

"You had your chance back in the day, Austin, and you missed it. Now you have to give it up."

Austin slyly slid a bright red cell phone out of his pocket, flipped it open. Ethan stared at it for half a minute, the object so incongruous in Austins hand, before it clicked.

"You stole ally's cell phone?"

"Borrowed it. You're making me think…..Maybe I ought to check out the competition."

"That's an invasion of privacy. Give it here." Ethan held out his hand. Austin shook his head, smirking, and began looking through ally's messages. He started with the inbox. After thirty seconds, he looked up at Ethan.

"This is the most boring bunch of texts I've ever read. 'Ally- not home for dinner'. 'Ally- please buy rice flour'. What the fuck is rice flour? What does one do with rice flour? This guy is so fucking BORING. Wait- listen to this one. 'You look nice today".

Austin chortled, immensely cheered up. "Apparently the competition isn't so strong."

Ethan shook his head, ruefully amused, using every ounce of control not to let his mouth smile. Austin had that effect on everybody. You found yourself trying not to laugh at his sheer, unapologetic awfulness.

"Maybe she wants some stability, Austin, have you thought of that?"

Austin was too busy reading to listen to Ethan properly. He went to the sent items. This was more like it. Ally's texts were wordy, thought out, as if she wanted to get her money's worth. She used literally every character she could when composing messages.

"She's texting everyone but me, it seems," he noted coldly. "She texts Kira about ten times a day, even you get some. That's just fucking lovely."

He read each one, absorbing her words, greedy for any snippets of her life he could find. The work related ones were dull. Her job seemed super shitty. She had sent one to someone called Amy last night which said, 'Thanks for all your support over the last few weeks. I've made a lot of progress. I'm feeling like I can face him again.' What the fuck did that mean? He went to her contacts list, scrolled, comparing names against his mental inventory. Who were all these people? Why did she have so many men in her phone? He opened his own contact details. She had his correct cell number. All it said was Austin, and the number. It seemed so impersonal.

He looked at Ethan, thrown for a moment, and then recalled his earlier question and said tartly, "She doesn't want stability. At this point, I think she belongs in a coma wing."

"It doesn't matter what you think, anyway. She's chosen him. Why do you care, anyway? I've never understood what's between you and ally." There was silence.

"She's mine." Austins tone was final, factual. His fist tightened on the diamond ring.

"You can hear her thoughts, though, right?" Ethan said this casually, but the shock of the statement reverberated in the room. Ethan had finally broached the untouchable topic. Austin stared at him in horror, his mouth slightly open.

"Austin, how could I not have known this? Did you think I wouldn't notice the one sided conversations you guys would have as six year olds? The way we played Go Fish, and completely annihilated her every time? Or what about how you found her hidden Easter egg stash after putting your finger on her forehead?" Ethan smiled sadly, looking into the fire.

"Poor kid never stood a chance with you. She was like your imaginary friend, but she actually existed. The only thing I want to know, is like, how do you do it? Can you hear me? I've never been sure." He looked at Austin directly. "What am I thinking?"

"Ethan, you ass." Austin smiled lightly, stubbornly giving away nothing. Power was power, whether it was real or imagined.

Ethan gritted his teeth, though he wasn't surprised. Nothing with Austin came easy.

Ethan was fascinated by the concept of telepathy; pored over any journals or new studies on the subject. On paper, he would have dismissed Austin as a particularly skilled manipulator of visual cues. He would never have believed it, or would have just written it off as his childish imagination, had he not witnessed it first hand so many times. He remembered once seeing Austin and ally through the window when they were teenagers. He had been in the kitchen, pouring himself some water, when he saw them.

They were outside in the small vegetable garden outside the kitchen. Ally stood amongst the cabbages, Austin opposite her with his back to Ethan. "Give it to me," Austin had said, holding out his palm as if requesting payment. Although clearly under duress, ally put her hand into his. Her face scrunched in concentration, her face tilted, her body twisting away. "No, give it to me," Austin had hissed, carelessly crushing the row of lettuces behind him. He growled, frustrated. "His name, ally." Ally glared at him, and her face had smoothed, her shoulders straightening in a small sign of defiance. They had stood there in silence for several moments. Until Austins temper had fractured.

Austin picked up his scotch glass, tipped it against his lips before realizing belatedly it was empty, and licked at the remaining drops. "You're going to be all pissy, but I've convinced ally to pretend to be falling in love with me. You know, to make ma happy."

Ethan steepled his huge hands, and instead of being outraged as Austin had expected, he appeared thoughtful. Ethan had heard too much over the years. He was unshockable.

"Well, I know she's always hoped you two would end up together."

Austin sat forward in his seat, relieved that he didn't have to sell the idea to his brother. "Exactly, that's what I told ally. She just has to pretend to be falling in love with me, and we can send Ma off with the last puzzle piece in place. Nice and simple."

Ethan cast his eyes to the ceiling and shook his head.

"Look. I can't stop you, and I won't say anything. But I think this is a really bad idea. Nothing about you is simple. You and ally have a lot of bad history." He held up his hand as Austin opened his mouth to argue.

"Austin, you once actually half-carried her out of Tylers house party because you thought she was talking to a guy. Which she was, except that it was me, but you were too drunk to realize. She has every right to believe that you're a sociopath."

Austins glare was vicious. He hated being reminded about incidents like that. They made him feel ridiculous. "I couldn't help myself. I was drunk. I was only joking, anyhow," he spat, his hand traveling to his hair.

"Like hell you were. You created such a scene out on the front lawn, ranting and raving while she cried, telling her that she was yours, and you punched me in the gut when I went out to stop you. People talked about it at school for weeks. She felt like a laughing stock. Everyone thought she was caught in some sort of semi-incestuous love triangle, and as always, you skated out of it scot-free."

The diamond engagement ring dangled from Austins fingers, and his eyes reflected the glinting sparks. He suddenly seemed to be not listening to Ethan at all; like he had changed frequencies. He rarely listened to anything he didn't like.

"I wonder if it's too late for me to ring Elliot. I wonder if nice tidy lawyer-types are asleep by now." He flipped open the phone, and Ethan got to his feet, putting the almost untouched scotch next to Austins empty glass.

"Do not fucking think about doing that." He held out his hand. "Give it to me."

"I was only joking," Austin protested, holding the cell close to his chest. "I'm going to go and give these back to ally now. And I'll apologize, and buy her a new chain."

Ethan stared at him for a long moment, could not detect any traces of insincerity in Austins face. "Alright. I'll see you in the morning." He ambled down the hallway, his movements heavy, the floorboards emitting squeaks of protest.

Austin stared into the fire and drank every last drop of Ethan's scotch. He put ally's ring in his mouth, sucked it, tasting the salt and the bitter gold, rolled the sharp diamond against his tongue.

The clock ticked onwards, making him antsy. He could not bear the sound of a ticking clock. It sounded like wasted time. He toyed with the phone. He tilted it this way and that, as if it were a magic eight ball; as if the screen would reveal The Signs Point to Yes. The familiar tuggings of conscience and mischief teased at him.

He selected a number. And hit Call.

*o*o*o*o*o*o

Ally laughed as she and Kira trudged up the stairs to the second floor, to Ethan's old bedroom. "Yes, he calls maybe twice a year, drunk and lonely from a hotel room in some random country. It's terribly seedy." Her voice was deceptively light.

Kira puffed and they paused on the first landing. "What sort of things does he say?" she asked, fascinated.

"The most annoying thing is that he calls at night, but it's only night time where he is. Time zones just don't compute with him. Sometimes I'll be getting a call at ten am on a Sunday, or like three thirty in the afternoon on a Monday and I'm at work. It's really irritating."

They continued up the stairs.

"Quit stalling, Dawson, spit it out. What sort of things does he say?" Ally shushed her and opened Kira's handbag, marveled at the array of items in there. A measuring tape. A bra. A cookie cutter. A ball of wool.

They reached the second floor, went into Ethan old bedroom- the blue room. They went in. It was lovely and warm, and Mike had built a low fire in the little fireplace. The room smelt of pine, like Christmas. Kira went to it, held her hands against the flickering warmth.

"He says thing like…" Kira prompted. Ally said nothing.

"Come on, I'm your best friend! I need to know these things. How else can I help you?"

Ally sank down to kneel in front of the fire and looked up at Kira, her face pensive. Kira could see right through her. She felt a burst of irritation that everybody could read her and get things out of her.

"Well, the last time he called, it was a couple of months ago- November, I think. He was calling from New Zealand. He was shooting the glaciers."

"I thought he only did war photos, these days," Kira commented, straightening the dusty knick knacks on the mantle.

"He sort of fills in the gaps in between shooting war zones, I think, especially if it's a country he wants to go to." Ally's voice was soaked in envy. Austin had the most incredible lifestyle of anyone she had ever met. Looking at his passport was like reading an Atlas. According to Mimi, he actually had to get a second passport last year; he had filled up the pages of the first one.

"He was telling me about how cold it was, and how he and the journalist he was traveling with went and saw the hot springs and got drunk in Rotorua, and the air smelt like rotten eggs from the sulfur. What a turn on. Anyway. He started saying how much he missed me, in that particular voice he uses."

Kira interrupted. "What voice?"

"He sort of makes it all…. Smooth… yet somehow rough, and low. Does that make sense? And by this point I know where he's headed."

Kira headed to the bed, lay down heavily on her back. "Then what does he say?"

"He starts telling me that he misses me. That he's traveled the world, and he's never seen anyone remotely as beautiful as me."

Ally picked at the fringe of the faded Persian rug on the floor, tracing the lines of ice blue, navy, dove grey "Which is complete crap. He dates models, for goodness sake."

Ally looked at her nails, short and unpainted. Imagining him with other women was a familiar ache, but somehow always throbbed dull and strong. He was so gorgeous, he could always take his pick of women. When he set his mind to winning someone, they never resisted him long. Sooner or later, one of them would capture him for good. She was resigned to the thought. She had been bracing herself for years, certain that Mimi or Mike would casually mention Austin moving in with someone, or worse, proposing. He couldn't live like Peter Pan forever.

"You're more beautiful than any of those soulless mannequins," Kira protested through a yawn, "Though he certainly seems to deliberately choose the women with the blackest souls he can find. They're beautiful, but they're just rotten." She shuddered. "That one Ethan and I met a few years ago…ugh, piper, I think. I looked into her eyes, and all I saw was pure, unadulterated evil."

Ally laughed at Kira's tendency to exaggerate.

"Well, thank you for thinking I'm beautiful."

"Ally, this is like pulling teeth! What does he say next?" Kira was tired and her tone was slightly sharp.

"He tells me that he wishes I was there, that he is all alone, and if I were there he'd be touching me."

Kira propped herself up awkwardly on her elbows. "Oh, this is getting good. Then what does he say?"

Allys cheeks were burning. She finished in a rush.

"He says things about what he'd like to do. That he'd make me remember that I was his. That once he got his hands on me again, I would give in. You know, the usual."

Kira lay back down flat, giving up on getting any juicier details. "Hot. And creepy. But still hot. Is that wrong, to think my brother-in-law is creepy hot?"

There was a long silence. Ally used a poker to prod the fire, seeing that Mike had added pine cones to make that beautiful scent. He was the most considerate man.

"Have you ever thought that maybe Austin only calls you when he's drunk because it's the only time he has the confidence?"

Ally half turned, but could only see Kira's feet.

"When has Austin ever needed confidence? He used to shower with the bathroom door open back in the day."

Kira sighed deeply. She raised her hands above her face, twisted her engagement ring back into place, felt the baby stretch in contentment.

"Sometimes it's hard for men to say what they feel. Especially complicated men like Austin."

"Austin feels nothing." Allys voice was flat, final.

Kira laughed softly. "Austins feelings are stronger than anybody's."

"Oh, Kira, that's not what I meant. It came out wrong. Of course he has _feelings_. Austins feelings have dominated my life. I mean, he doesn't have feelings for me."

"His feelings for you are the strongest."

"His feelings for me are the… sharpest, maybe, but they're not romantic feelings. He doesn't understand his feelings for me, probably never will, so there's no point in me trying to analyse him. I'd drive myself insane."

"Do you think he's touching himself when he's talking to you?" Kira snickered evilly.

"I assume he is. He gets a bit breathless towards the end."

Kira gusted a deep sigh. "Towards the end? So, once he's panting down the phone, what do you do? Hang up on him? Blow a gym-teacher's whistle to deafen him?"

Allt was silent.

"Do you…. Talk back to him?"

Ally bit the inside of her cheek.

Kira gaped at the ceiling, trying to reconcile the image. Ally, who made jars of cranberry sauce for Christmastime and had a dollhouse? That same ally, talking dirty to Austin? Made sense, Kira thought. Elliot was a stuffed shirt, and it was always the quiet girls who were a little freaky. She was so tired, the conversation was starting to feel like a hallucination.

"I don't say anything." Ally interrupted Kira's turgid train of thought. She looked at Kira with a small glint in her eye.

"What, you just listen?"

"I just…. Don't hang up." She finally clarified.

"Well, well." Kira dragged herself around with her legs, climbed awkwardly under the blankets fully clothed. "This is very interesting."

Ally watched her crash headlong into sleep.

*o*o*o*o*o*o

Ally returned to the white room to find her ring and her cell lying square in the middle of her pillow. Ethan. What a relief to have him here. Thank goodness Austin hadn't gotten his hands on these. She could see that he was still awake; the light cast an oozing gold glow underneath the door and she could hear Led Zeppelin's Black Dog playing faintly.

She checked the bathroom door was locked twice before she stripped off and stood under the boiling spray. Right in the exact spot that Austin would also stand naked every morning. She shivered despite the heat of the water, her mind drifting back to everything she had omitted to tell Kira. She felt guilty for holding back, but there was no way she could have said some of those words aloud or even hoped to have accurately captured his words.

*o*o*o*o*o*o

"Ally," he had purred, the sound of a creaking mattress faintly audible. "Ally, gorgeous ally, I'm lying here on this bed and I'm thinking about your hair. If you were here with me now, I'd wind your hair around my wrists and I'd kiss you. I'd suck on your tongue, just a little bit, I know how much you like that. And you like when I bite you too, don't you? When I bite you, your thoughts go all fuzzy."

He laughed huskily and ally had looked around surreptitiously to see if anyone was watching her. She had snuck out of the incredibly boring court case she was covering, hoping fervently that a bombshell wasn't dropped in her absence. She had walked to the end of the hallway, sat on the low windowsill.

It was indeed three thirty on a Monday afternoon. Austin was clearly drunk, and announced that he was in New Zealand. Ally, trapped inside the airless corridor like a bug in a jar, was speechless with jealousy.

He had made with the pleasantries for a good couple of minutes before he flicked the switch and went into long-distance seduction mode.

"What are you wearing?" He had slurred softly, unaware or uncaring of how clichéd he sounded. "Work clothes," she said flatly.

"I can work with that," he muttered, undeterred by her tone. "A skirt and white shirt, and your glasses too, I bet." Ally looked down at herself. He was right.

"Well, how I'd see it happening, I'd roll you onto your back, and I'd bite every single one of your shirt buttons off, starting at the bottom. Real slow. I'd chew on them and spit them out." Ally's eyebrows shot up and she shrank back further into the windowsill as a grey clutch of lawyers walked past, conferring loudly amongst themselves.

"We'd leave your geek glasses on for a bit longer. Are they still the black rimmed nerd ones? They get me so hot, you have no fucking idea. So, are you still with me here?" His breathing hitched, and ally's center fluttered to life in response. The hallway emptied again, and she was alone momentarily, her heart pounding in her throat.

"Yes, I'm still here," she managed to say crisply, attempting to sound businesslike to anyone overhearing her. Inwardly, she screaming at herself to hang up, yet somehow could not. He had the most vivid imagination; perhaps it was the curiosity of what he would say next that kept her just not quite able to disconnect. She fiddled with one of the buttons on her shirt in fascination- he would _bite_ them off?- and swung her hair around to shield her blazing cheeks from any passers by.

"Yes, that's what you'd say if you were here, and in that prissy voice too. So, to recap, I've fucking ruined your shirt, and I'd pull it up and wrap it around your wrists over your head. Then I'd slide down your skirt zipper so, so slow you'd be begging me to hurry." Here, Austins voice grew rough, before he swallowed, and then said, "Then I'd peel it off you."

Ally twisted on the windowsill. It was just wrong to be this turned on in public, at work. She began walking down the hall, towards the fire escape.

"Are you walking?" Austin asked, his breathing steadily increasing in her ear. "I can hear your heels."

Ally said nothing, pushed the heavy fire escape door, stepped into the half darkness, leaned against it. Her skin was sensitized, she could feel the cold of the door against her burning skin through her thin cotton shirt, her nipples hardening.

"Hmmm, now, let me see," Austin continued. "You'd be in just…. A bra, and panties, and thigh highs." He didn't speak for several moments, and ally closed her eyes, biting her lip, sensing her own wetness increasing. Just the sound of his breath was hopelessly erotic. She abstractly realized it was a very good International connection. It was crystal clear. She could almost feel his hot breath in her ear.

"So, those stockings have to go. I'm probably going to just tear them slowly to shreds, and lick your skin through each hole. I'll have to bite just one little hole at first, but then they'd rip just so easy." His voice was dark, strained.

"You won't be able to stop yourself thinking of what you wish I'd do. I'll hear it, and I'll do it. And I'll do the things you're half praying I won't. And you'll be mine, completely mine. As soon as my hands are on you, you will always be…." His voice trailed off. His breath was rough now, and fast. "You can't do anything about it, either, because your hands are all tangled up."

Ally opened her eyes and said, before she could stop herself, "But what if it's not me being restrained? Maybe it would be you on your back." She was irritated by his view of her as always his victim, his property.

Austins breath burned through the phone, almost hurting her ear. He groaned, long and deep. It was like an animal's growl. The sound was pure sex, utterly male, completely Austin. Ally wrapped her arm around her stomach, trying to ignore the answering pulse in her neck, breasts, between her thighs. She held herself still as his panting gradually slowed.

"Yep, that did it," he started laughing lazily. "You dirty girl. I fucking love it. Do you want me to keep talking for you?"

Ally let the chill spread back over her, a protective layer, as the embarrassment and shame that she had been holding off suddenly sucked the breath from her lungs.

She had said, with as much dignity as she could, "Goodbye, Austin."

*o*o*o*o*o*o

Ally was suddenly doused in cold water as the hot water ran out in the moon shower, recreating the feeling perfectly.

**R&amp;R**


	8. Chapter 8

**I own nothing Austin and ally belong to Disney channel and this story belongs to the black arrow.**

**Thank you for reviewing the last chapter!**

**Chapter Seven: Eighty Years**

The weather was trying to claw its way inside. It leaned against the glass and tested the window frame's structural integrity. The wind huffed through the minute gaps around the pane. It breathed fog around the foundations, and licked condensation along the edges of the glass. It picked at the slate roof tiles. Something about this place amplified everything. Frustrated, the sky heaved a net of raindrops over the house. Still, the house stood steadfast, as it had for countless years.

Ally watched the splatter of rain run down the window with dry, scratchy eyes. She sat in a chair at the foot of Mimi and mikes bed, bleached with exhaustion in the pearlescent light that flooded the room. She had dragged on the first thing she could find in her bag, and was disheveled, with lavender shadows under her eyes. She had been relieved to see Austins door still closed as she trod silently down the hallway.

She had slept fitfully, dozing off and then jolting awake in a seemingly never ending loop. Her back had grown unaccustomed to the soft, swayed mattress, and she thought she could smell Austin on her pillow.

She had forgotten that he couldn't sleep without music. She had been used to it when she was a teenager, even found it strangely comforting.

Last night, it seemed to permeate her room, soak her blankets, lie on her skin like a film; it made the wall vibrate lightly when she rested her fingertips against it.

His room throbbed like a heartbeat, all night.

At about three thirty, she contemplated sending him a text, telling him to turn it off, but she didn't press send on the irate message she had composed. She didn't want to deal with him when she was so tired. No doubt knowing she was awake would have been enough to have him slinking into her room.

She locked her door at night, like Mike insisted when she was younger. But history had proven time and time again that a mere lock couldn't keep him out. Once, during a week-long argument where she had avoided him, he had unscrewed the door hinges.

Mimi was sitting up in bed. Mike had arranged her pillows into a large stack and then gone on his morning drive to buy newspapers and pastries. Her bedside table was littered with the hallmarks of the ill; a water glass with a straw, tissues, brown medication bottles that made ally look away.

The room was colour themed, like the rest. When Ethan was a baby, Mimi had taken a short course on interior design to get herself out of the house. She didn't see the irony of taking up a hobby to get her out of the house which actually made her spend more time in it.

She had embraced the concept of colour psychology with an intensity unmatched by the other course participants. This was the green room; the wallpaper in palest eau de nil stripes. The curtains were dark ivy brocade, and the little cream French armchairs were upholstered in pale mint. She had wanted to bring the outside in, she had told Mike, motioning to the lush green fields and distant weeping willows out the window. "We'd better paint the room grey then," he had teased.

Mimi lay, curled beneath her similarly leafy blankets, marveling at how her whole universe had shrunk to this room.

It seemed like an eternity ago that the world had been unwalled. Before she had started this slow fade, she had spent hours outside in the garden, strong enough to withstand the punishing elements, coming in after dark with a back aching from digging and raking. She had pushed tiny seedlings into the black dirt, and watched them twist into life.

She liked to remember herself carrying heavy pitchers of lemonade onto the stone patio with a steady arm, calling the children down from their tree house as the dappled sunlight blinded her eyes.

She had saddled Mercury and Jupiter and cut pieces of apple with a pocketknife for ally to feed them. She had stood beside a bonfire, the sky a purple-black dome studded with stars, leaning against Mike, feeling his lips in her hair. She remembered giving silent thanks to the forces had brought them together. Souls always found their way home.

They were memories of a different era, when her world was made of air and sky. Her body had tried to give her tiny clues, just over three years ago now. The cancer had taken residence in her body, and had taken a hold, faintly announcing itself with a slight ache in her abdomen and some weight loss. She had actually been pleased to lose a few pounds in the beginning, she recalled with a tiny smile.

Now, as pancreatic cancer claimed Mimi slowly, she could do no more than curl here, and be tended by her family, and breathe.

It was not easy. The ache inside her body battled against every breath she drew, and it took every ounce of her concentration to not let it show. The medication left a bitter taste in her mouth, and barely seemed to smudge the edges of her pain.

Still, she was where she wanted to be, surrounded by those who connected her like threads to the Earth. Sometimes, she wondered if she would just float off if the room was empty, with no one to anchor her with their words, their presence. Her eyes lifted to the gunmetal square of sky framed by the window, which in turn framed ally. The light was too bright, but she never wanted those curtains closed again.

She watched as ally ate a piece of her toast, marveling at how easy it seemed to be. Mimi had not eaten in months. The drip beside the bed infused her body with some mysterious substance, and she was glad. Eating anything was unfathomable now.

Ally was curled in her seat, completely unaware of herself as always. Mimi lovingly memorized the curve of her cheek, her youth, her colours. Trying to imprint them on her soul somehow. To have something to take to penny.

"Ethan and Kira will sleep late, I'd say," ally commented, sipping her orange juice. "They got in pretty late last night."

Mimis hands played with the edge of the quilt. "Is Kira's big as a house?"

Ally grinned, and held her hands out in front of her as far as they went. "Oh, at least this big."

Mimis eyes went dreamy as she gazed out the window behind ally. "I love babies so much."

Allys heart burned. Please hold on. Please hold on.

"And here's your most favorite baby," Austin announced, sailing into the room, dropping a kiss on Mimis forehead and taking a piece of toast from ally's plate as he passed. He paused, and then awkwardly put it back.

"No, go on, I've had enough anyway," she told him tiredly.

He dragged a chair over to sit opposite her. He wrapped his legs around hers, his black socked feet pressing her ankles together. He leaned in, kissing her forehead. Soap, clean cloth and spearmint toothpaste swirled.

"Hello. You look gorgeous." He slowly kissed from her cheek to her temple. Very slowly. The hairs stood up on her arms, and she resisted the urge to twist away from his touch. This was all for Mimis benefit, she reminded him crossly.

"I know. How could I have left you alone all these years? So beautiful…" He muttered softly, taking her hands, turning them over, putting his thumbs in the centre of each palm.

His dark eyelashes were spiky, and as he raised his eyes to hers. The hazel caught her, held her. There were no words for those eyes. There was so much happening behind them. She wished she had eyes like that. Hers were just brown. Flat.

"Your eyes are deep." Austin said, conversationally.

Ally tried not to raise her eyebrows cynically as they stared at each other.

Her heart began to stumble and skip erratically as he ran his tongue over his lower lip. His beautiful mouth lifted in a lopsided smile, revealing one sharp white canine tooth.

She felt a thought trying to slip through her mental firewall. It was coming, like a sneeze, and she tried to pull her hands back. He pressed his thumbs more firmly into her palms, his eyes daring her to think it. She couldn't break the gaze.

There was no stopping it; she was hopelessly out of practice and could not divert the thought. The memory of leaning against the fire escape door, listening to him groan, flashed through her mind like a subliminal message. One frame. She watched as his pupils dilated, like a drop of black ink spreading.

"We should spend more time together. You know, to catch up. Talk about our favourite memories."

His eyebrow quivered almost imperceptibly, and she knew he was trying not to laugh at his own cleverness. He loved finding ways of turning things back onto her. He lifted his hand to her neck, cupped her jaw with one hand, his fingernails scratching lazy circles under her ear.

You're laying it on too thick, she thought. She'll know that something isn't right. You're not normally nice to me.

She cast a quick glance at Mimi, who was watching them both with a captivated expression.

"That sounds…. Nice." Ally managed, trying not to sound doubtful.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked, and she nodded, making herself smile softly. The lie was like a blinking neon sign on her face, she was sure of it.

_Last night was the worst night's sleep I've had since I left this place, _she told him_. It was like sleeping inside fucking Moby Dick's stomach, listening to its heart beating all night. Turn your music down, for God's sake. I am going to break your Zeppelin record over my knee. _

Austin laughed and choked on his enormous mouthful of toast, and turned to Mimi, coughing.

"Isn't ally looking just so beautiful these days, ma?" he wheezed valiantly through the crumbs that circulated in his lungs, managing a dazzling smile.

Mimi smiled back, seemingly unperturbed by their strange, stilted conversation.

"She is the most beautiful girl on Earth. But you already know that."

This charade was excruciating, and ally squirmed.

"Well, thank you both. But how are you this morning, Austin?"

_I know how you are this morning. You slept like a baby. Look at you. _

"Fine, fine," he said, and let her go. He hastily shoved the rest of her toast in his mouth and went to look out the window. He wrenched open the window and leaned out, leaving only his rather lovely backside in view. He hung out so far, and he stood on one foot. He looked like he would topple out any second. The wind gleefully flooded in.

"Austin, it's freezing. Mimi will get cold." Ally's voice was sharp as she watched his foot sliding on the carpet.

"It's alright," Mimi murmured. She couldn't help but indulge Austin. "Having some fresh air is what I need. What are you looking for, darling?"

He hauled himself back inside and slammed the window shut again.

"I was checking whether it's going to clear up. I don't want my camera to get too wet. I want to go up to the docks at the beach to take some shots."

"What's up there?" Ally asked, her interest piqued.

"Tide's out. I want to go and climb on the rocks. There are some interesting formations up there."

Mimi sighed. "I wish you'd do nature photography all the time. I hate the thought of you in the middle of a war. Why do you want to look at all the terrible things humans do to each other?"

Austin narrowed his eyes and looked at the floor. He said nothing, torn between arguing and upsetting Mimi. He scraped his thumbnail against the end of his studded belt that hung long and loose. He was glad she didn't have a full grasp of what this type of work entailed. The contents of his laptop would horrify her.

"Austins work is really important," ally said in his defense. He looked up in surprise.

"The world needs to see war, as awful as it is." She stared up at the ceiling, its beautiful pressed ceiling and elegant, simple chandelier, trying to find the words.

"It means that the people who are in these awful situations have their stories told." She tucked her feet up on the chair and rested her head on her knees, closing her eyes.

"It humanizes what's happening to them."

Austin opened his mouth to say something, but Mimi interrupted him.

"I'm sorry, darling. I know your job is important. I just hate to think of you in danger."

"Who's in danger?" said Ethan, entering the room carrying a tray laden with mugs and a glass coffee plunger.

"Austin is. When he's overseas, taking the war photos."

Ethan set the tray down, and kissed his mother on the cheek, snorting softly with laughter.

"Austins in danger, alright. He's in danger right here in this house. Hello, ma."

He slanted a look at ally, who wrinkled her nose at him.

"What, in danger from this little creature?" Austin returned, as he crossed the room and put his hands under ally's hair, massaging her neck, his expert fingers plucking at each aching tendon before massaging in circles. Oh, he had strong hands, Ally thought hazily as his thumbs somehow found each frozen muscle, pressed it, unlocked her piece by piece.

Kira came in, proudly showcasing her belly in a tight black top. "Kira!" Mimi crooned, her whole heart in her voice. More threads to hold her.

*o*o*o*o*o*o

Mike returned soon after, and they all sat around, drinking coffee and reading newspapers. Instinctively, they all attempted to act as normally as possible.

Mimi reveled in the activity in the room, and her eyes glowed as she watched them all argue and tease each other. Kira sat on the bed next to her so she feel the baby moving. "Like a fluttering bird," said Mimi.

"It's a damn big bird in there then," Kira said, "And it's making a nest out of my ribs."

Mike sat in his armchair, silent yet somehow always a part of everything. Mimi loved watching him reading his newspaper. His threads ran in her veins. Ethan pulled Austins vacated chair around next to ally and flopped down into it, his feet on the edge of the bed.

Mimi watched Austin, hating how he stood outside of the circle that had formed around her bed. He leaned against the window again, picking at a stud on his belt, his gaze flicking to ally every few seconds. Mimi doubted he was aware that his eyes returned to her so often. Her pull was as natural to him as blinking. He always wore black, Mimi thought with faint irritation. What she wouldn't give to see him in some colour. He leaned against the window, and Mimi hated the isolation she sensed as she studied him. She thought to ask him to sit closer, when he suddenly spoke.

"Ally, would you like to come to the beach with me today? We could grab some lunch, too."

All eyes turned to ally.

"Like, a lunch date." He clarified.

Mimi looked at her expectantly, not even trying to look disinterested. Ally felt like they were performing a play on stage. Any minute now, mimi would pick up opera glasses in the hope of getting a better view.

Ethan looked like he wanted to shake his head. Kira was gleeful; she loved playing. Mikes mouth was pursed and suspicious.

Ally twisted in her seat, attempting to make her smile look natural, slightly flirtatious. It wasn't hard to sound the part, given the material she was working with. His dark blue jeans were low slung and gravity was doing battle with the belt anchoring them on his hips.

His black t shirt melted all over his mouthwatering torso, and as her eyes drifted down, he lifted the edge of the shirt and began rubbing his stomach lazily. Glimpses of flat stomach adorned with a trail of softly curling dark gold hair, being rhythmically revealed and concealed by the fabric and his wrist, were making her brain blurry.

Ally realized she had not answered. Five minutes may have gone past for all she knew. She was very obviously ogling him, with all his family as a rapt audience.

She cleared her throat several times, but her voice was still embarrassingly husky. The shame, the shame, she told herself in despair.

"That would be really nice, Austin. I'd love that." She prayed she had appeared to be deep in thought- sensible thoughts, not thoughts that involved his muscled bits.

"I'll take you to wherever you want to go." Austin returned to stand behind ally, sweeping her hair over one shoulder and dropping a courtly kiss on her cheek.

"Oh, Austin, you're such a gentleman." Mimi all but glowed. "Such a gentleman."

He abruptly tipped ally out of her seat, sat and then scooped her onto his lap.

Ally always drew him back in, where he belonged, mused Mimi. Everyone had threads.

"Some gentleman," ally was complaining. "I'm too heavy. We'll break the chair."

"Nonsense," he replied. "Stay here." His belt buckle bit into her backside. Ally tried not to squirm too much on his lap as she awkwardly tried to perch. She could almost hear his eyebrows arching. She could only ruefully imagine what his view was like.

She sat upright for several minutes, finding it difficult to keep her back so straight when he was slouched in the seat. Her muscles trembled from the effort, and she dangled her feet in the air, trying to keep her knees pressed together- no easy feat when he had his thighs spread so far apart. She was just formulating an excuse for more coffee when his fingers stroked against her waist.

"Relax, would you?" he said loudly, irritated. With a small sigh of resignation she did as he said, lay back, and the hot cradle of his body made her eyes want to close. Her head dropped into the curve of his neck. His skin was hot and burned through the layers of cotton between them. She could feel his body flexing against her spine, and he shifted slightly and as she rolled into an even more comfortable position, she allowed grudgingly that he was.… ergonomic. She felt him shaking in silent laughter.

"Looking comfy you two," commented Kira, watching them both with interest. Ethan had obviously told her of the little façade they were attempting.

"Don't they just look so perfect together?"

Embarrassment pinked ally's cheeks and made her try to slide off. Kira's comment was just too obvious. Subtlety did not come easy to her.

Austins arm came around her instantly, and she was forced to lie back again.

"Did I ever tell you about the night that Austin and ally were born?" Mimi began, smiling at Mike as he held out a glass with a straw for her to sip.

"Yes, but tell us again," urged Kira. Mimi was famous for always telling the same family stories over and over. It was a comforting rhythm; and they soaked up her words, now all the more precious. She always started this story in the same way.

"Well, it was a Thursday evening. Penny was here helping me finish up the nursery for Austins arrival. I had helped her with ally's the night before. We spent the evening folding up tiny clothes, and putting sheets on the little mattress in the crib. Everything was looking so perfect. It was the room that is still yours Austin; the gold room."

Mimi paused, took another sip of water. Her voice was very thin, but she continued.

"I started having contractions, and Mike drove Penny home. But then he brought her back again, because before they even made it to her house, Penny Had felt a contraction too. I laughed so hard I thought I'd have Austin right here on the floor.

"It was lovely, actually, going through that kind of experience with your best friend." Mimi smiled at Ally. "She was the most beautiful person. She was funny and sweet and couldn't stop talking. She just bubbled over everywhere, all the time. She had a glow."

Ally closed her eyes, enjoying the story, feeling the rise and fall of Austins body, his arm around her waist, his fingers under the edge of her top. She suddenly missed her mother, the faint memory of her acutely. She hated that she had to remember her mother through fading photographs. Mimi was the only loving historian she would be able to hear things like this from. Her father never even mentioned Pennys name.

Austins arm tightened, and she rested her cheek on his hot, spicy sweet shoulder, feeling the slow thud of his heart beneath her.

"Austin was born at five am on that Friday morning. It was a quick labour, thank goodness. Ally, you were born at the much more civilized time of eight am. You came rushing into this world, crying like you were already asking where Austin was."

Austin sighed deeply beneath her, lifting her body with the swell of his chest.

"She was no doubt anxious to start completely taking over my life."

Ally wrinkled her forehead against his neck. "Are you serious?""

Mimi was determined to finish the story. She loved watching the two, curled around each other. It was fitting, given the part of the story she was up to.

"You both looked so sweet asleep in your cribs. Back in those days, babies slept in the maternity room, all lined up in cribs in neat little rows. Penny and I couldn't bear the thought of leaving you in there. We shouldn't have, and we got in trouble from the ward nurse in the morning, but we put ally into Austins crib, and it was just so beautiful, our two little babies asleep side by side."

They all fell silent, smiling at Mimis whimsy. Kira was lifting a tear away from her eye with the back of her hand.

"How bout it? Want to reenact our first night on the planet?" Austin said in a leering voice, ruining the poignant moment and giving her a slight jiggle.

Everyone burst out laughing, even Mimi and Mike caught Ally's eye, shaking his head in unwilling amusement.

"Well, no, I don't fancy a night in a crib with you, thanks anyway," ally said, trying to swallow her giggles.

"Your loss," Austin countered. He stretched, enjoying her warmth.

Suddenly, ally's phone began ringing. She managed to pull it out of her pocket to read the caller ID. Elliot Office. Austins arm tightened around her.

"Excuse me, I have to take this," ally muttered, squirming and floundering for several moments until he released her, and she hurried from the room.

"Hello?" she said as she hurried to the end of the hallway, running lightly down the stairs.

"Ally, how are you?" Elliot's voice was pleasant and even. He always sounded professional, even when making a private call to her. His office made his voice echo.

If she was truthful with herself, she hated speaking with Elliot on the phone. He always sounded like a different person.

"Good, how are you?" Her voice was hushed as she looked back up the stairs. No sign of Austin.

Elliot sighed. "Tired, actually."

"How's the case going?" She lingered in the hallway, leaning against the door to her bedroom. The shadows slanted deeper and deeper, until they were interrupted by the light from Austins open bedroom door.

"It's been a nightmare. One of the jurors spoke with a newspaper journalist last night, so we're having to start from scratch and get a new jury in."

He paused. "They spoke to someone from the Oregonian, actually."

Ally immediately felt terrible, and guessed who it might have been.

"Oh, please tell me it wasn't Maxine. She should have known better. She's been talking about this case for weeks now, how it would be good exposure for her to have her name attached to it. I'm sorry."

Ally began pacing up and down the hallway, not realizing that each orbit of the hallway pulled her slightly closer to Austins room. She began picking at the hem of her sweater.

"She's been fishing for details from me. She never believed me when I said that we don't ever talk about cases."

Elliot lowered his voice until he was almost whispering.

"You know I have to be so careful; people already talk about it, me being linked up with the media. Being with you has made me a bit of a target for this. I have to make sure I'm beyond reproach. I've just been dragged over the coals for this."

"I've said I'm sorry. That was nothing I had control over. I'll speak to her."

"Yes, well." There was silence.

"Mimis awake, talking to us," she finally said, resentment heating her voice. "Even though you haven't even asked about her."

Elliot sighed. "Yes, I was getting to that. How are the family coping?"

"They're OK. They're all back now. Even Austins here." She felt strange even saying his name to Elliot. Guilt twinged inside her gut.

"Tell him one of my colleagues is a big admirer of his work." Elliot loved having connections with successful people. Even if he had never met or spoken with Austin, he would have still worked it into conversation during Tuesday morning racquetball.

"I'll tell him."

"Yes, apparently he did a really interesting series of portraits of the Afghani poppy farmers that's being put together as an exhibition."

Ally chewed on her lip.

"I don't know about that," she said, "He doesn't tell us much about his work."

"Well, my colleague would be really grateful if you can hook him up somehow. Those sort of things are invite only."

Ally could only imagine Austins scornful look if she asked him. She hummed noncommittally.

"How long are you going to be down there?" Elliot asked, and ally could hear paper rustling.

"You mean, how long until the funeral? Is that what you're asking me?" She snapped.

Elliot paused. "You're not being fair. You know that's not what I meant. I just want to know when to expect you home. I hear that being engaged generally means you know when you'll see the other person again."

"Why, do you miss me?" Ally asked, desperate for him to give her something, anything. She was aware she was being a brat. It was like the phone line was robbing her of any connection to him.

"Of course I miss you," he soothed. "We only just got engaged, and you left so quickly. I've got colleagues asking me when we're having an engagement party." He was trying to cheer her up, but she didn't want to be cheered.

"Well, I'm not exactly in the mood to book an engagement party just at the moment, Elliot." Her temper was rising.

"I'll hire someone then. Mark gave me the number of someone apparently quite good."

Ally couldn't stand the thought of him talking weddings and parties. It was too soon.

"That's not what I meant. I'm feeling really upset over Mimi. I won't want to have a party."

"Oh ally, I know. I'm sorry." He paused, then his voice sounded muffled. He was paranoid about being overheard at work.

"You must have missed me, too, right? I had a missed call from you pretty late."

Ally frowned. "I guess I must have called you from my pocket or something. Sorry about that."

"Flatter me, why don't you," Elliot said, hurt.

"Oh, I didn't mean it that way. Of course I miss you."

"I have to go, my other line is ringing. I'll talk to you later." He hung up.

She put her phone in her pocket, making sure she locked the keypad this time. That conversation hadn't gone well. She felt like a teenage girl who had argued with her father.

She found herself standing in the doorway to the gold room. She hadn't seen inside his room in years. The huge, canopied bed, raised on a slight platform, dominated the room, the blankets rumpled and twisted. The dull copper filigree wallpaper, the heavy gold curtains tinged the light in the room the color of champagne.

The white room was always cool, cold, but this room was warm, and littered with clues.

She couldn't help herself. She took one tiny step into the room, looking at his leather jacket over a chair, his laptop, his black camera with lenses of various lengths, probably ten thousand dollars worth of photographic equipment scattered over his desk. The laptop was open, its screen dark.

There were sneakers and records everywhere, and black clothes hemorrhaged all over the carpet from his military backpack. The sight of the army bag threw her a bit. She tried, and failed, to imagine Austin traveling with troops or being in any type of regimented situation. Who knows how they handled him. She supposed that people with talent got away with more than the average person.

She wandered to the foot of his bed, acutely aware that she was walking a dangerous line by being in here, but somehow unable to stop. Everything was fascinating. She wanted to look, and touch, and try to work him out.

She saw a bottle on top of his dresser. Maybe that was the cologne he wore. Finally, she would have a name for the spicy apple scent.

"Looking for something?" Austin asked, causing her to jump in fright. She slowly turned. He stood in the doorway, wearing a scowl.

"Austin, I'm so sorry," she said, dropping her eyes to the floor. Her face burned in humiliation. She of all people knew how important privacy was.

"It's alright," he said, surprising her. "Look around."

Ally stood frozen in place, biting her lip and shaking her head, allowing her hair to fall around her face, concealing it from him. She mistrusted his offer, especially coupled with that expression.

"No, I need to…. Go and unpack my stuff."

He sauntered in, sat in his desk chair and spun around.

"I don't have any secrets from you."

Ally frowned in puzzlement. "Yes, you do. Everything is a secret."

He picked up his camera, selecting a lens without taking his eyes from hers, and fitted it onto the camera. "No, I don't. Please, look around. I insist."

She crossed uncertainly to the opposite wall, her feet sinking into the plush carpet, and looked at the floor to ceiling bookshelf. She turned back to him and heard his camera's shutter close. She wasn't particularly surprised. He had taken countless test shots of her over the years, toying around with new equipment, testing the light.

"Is that a new lens?" she asked.

"No…" Austin frowned slightly, squinting at her through the view, adjusting the lens further with his long fingers, taking several more frames. He lowered the camera and stared at her.

"Stop that," she said, tucking her hair behind her ears. She turned back to his shelf, running her fingers along the spines of the books. He had read all of them, she knew. He kept most of his books here, because he didn't want the bother of shipping them to… wherever it was he lived. She realized with a start that she had no idea where he lived.

She turned the volume knob on the stereo down and shot him a pointed look. He nodded.

She went to his bedside table. It was covered in coins, not all of them US currency, and a fat roll of notes. Fifties, she realized with a start. There was a leather cuff, and a watch, and his keys. There was a medication bottle, but she didn't want to read the label. There was a crystal glass, and a bottle of scotch, about two thirds empty.

She paused, puzzled, as she spotted her copy of Wuthering Heights which lay open on his pillow, and turned back to him, holding it up.

He sat impassively in his chair, his ankle on his opposite knee.

"I had to check out the competition," he said, smirking slightly. "Well, tried to, anyway."

She smiled. "You've got nothing on Heathcliff."

She opened the book at the page it lay open at.

_I was a fool to fancy for a moment that she valued Edgar Linton's attachment more than mine — If he loved with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn't love as much in eighty years, as I could in a day. And Catherine has a heart as deep as I have; the sea could be as readily contained in that house-trough, as her whole affection be monopolized by him — Tush! He is scarcely a degree nearer than her dog, or her horse — It is not in him to be loved like me, how can she love in him what he has not?_

Allys smile slipped and she snapped the book shut, tossed it on his bed.

"Can I look at anything in this room?" she asked, testing him, her hand wrapping around the bed's post. Her eyes rested on the laptop that sat behind him.

He twisted around, accidentally bumping the laptop and jolting it out of its screensaver. A frame of a white clad man seated cross legged on a dirt roadside, with US Army personnel standing over him, filled the screen.

"No, you can't look in there."

Ally was annoyed. She was a journalist too, sort of, she thought.

"Please? It would be fascinating."

He closed the laptop.

"I don't want you looking in there. There are things in there that are… pretty awful." He gestured vaguely.

"What do you say to the argument that a photograph is just a self portrait of the photographer?" Ally tossed at him, trying to tease him, to regain some of her footing, but regretting the cruel words the moment they left her lips.

Austin held her in his camera frame as she crossed to the window and pulled the curtains open. He stood and dragged an antique chair from against the wall to beside the window.

"Sit, please." He wheeled his chair opposite hers, their knees almost touching. He raised his camera.

The artist in him could appreciate the soft light and the framing of her face as she gazed unflinchingly at him through the lens.

She had never been the type of girl to cover her face, to beg to at least fix her hair and makeup, and it was a relief. She somehow seemed to understand that the camera was essentially just an extension of him; that it saw what he saw.

He took frame after frame of her face, glowing gold, the tiny glittering dust particles floating around her like she was in a snow globe.

Every dark strand of her hair was defined and gilded in light. Her skin was flawless and clean as a peach.

"You seemed to paint my job in a pretty fucking noble light to Mimi upstairs."

He lowered the camera, adjusted it to high speed continuous and brushed at the grit and sand that had accumulated in its crevices. Holding it up again, he stared through the viewfinder, wondering at the flickering changes behind her eyes as she stared back at him, her unsmiling rosebud mouth grave and sweet.

As she spoke, he compulsively took frames.

"Not many people voluntarily walk towards war. To be in that moment of catastrophe, when someone's life has just been changed, or ended, and to actually force yourself to turn back and look at the horror through your camera, and actually make yourself see it, and have it together enough to compose a shot. It's… I have a lot of respect for what you do."

She fell silent. It was like with each blink of her eyes, she wore a different expression, although the rest of her face was still. The camera effortlessly captured it. With each touch of his finger the camera took ten frames.

Confused. Sad. Yearning. Grieving. Alone. Lost. Exposed. Scared. Vulnerable. He had photographed countless faces over the years, but had never seen eyes that changed like that.

He stopped clicking.

"Do you feel connected to the people in your photos? Or does the camera give you objectivity?" She asked, unsettled by his unblinking stare. He said nothing. He just continued to stare, his thumb idly rubbing circles against the camera's button.

"I'm connected," he eventually said. "Too connected."

He looked out the window. "But at the same time, it doesn't touch me. I'm numb from some things."

She was desperate to lighten the mood. The atmosphere was suddenly heavy with words unsaid.

"There's probably not even any film in that thing," she commented, crossing to his dresser to pick up the bottle.

"It's digital, you nerd." He said. He watched her sniff the inside of the cologne's cap, noted her slightly creased brow. "What?"

She ducked her head, embarrassed. "This isn't you." She held the bottle up.

"No, that's Ethan's. Dad thought it was mine. It smells like a date rapist. I don't wear anything."

There was an awkward pause. "But I smell nice to you, though, right?" he asked, unable to resist. She was just too easy to tease.

She looked down at her hands, and then at his bed. It was huge. The sheets were a silky buttermilk colour. She felt her face start to burn.

"Why don't you get ready for lunch?" He said suddenly.

"So, we really are going to lunch?" she said.

He looked at her strangely. "Yes, what did you think we were going to do?"

"Um, I don't know, maybe you have stuff to do and you'd drop me off somewhere…"

Austin was suddenly furious.

"What, drop you off on the side of the road, maybe? No, I'm taking you out to lunch. On a date. Really. So you'd better get ready."

Her cell started ringing as she walked to her room.

She checked the screen: Amy Mobile.

He made his voice hard as she walked down the hallway, away from him.

"That better not be him again. Don't let me hear you telling that fucker again that you miss him, ever again."

Austin sat for a long time with his feet on her chair, watching the dust swirl where she had been.

He hooked up the camera to his laptop.

He flicked back through the gold photos of her beside the window over and over again, looking at her eyes, trying to find a particular frame.

He couldn't find it.

**R&amp;R**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/n: thank you so so so so so much for reading and reviewing this story it makes me very happy to know that you guys take the time to do that. I hope you like this chapter (:**

**I do not own Austin and ally and I do not own this story it belongs to The Black Arrow.**

* * *

**Chapter Eight: A Long Way  
**

This was the longest fucking twenty minutes ever, Austin thought crossly, shifting in the driver's seat.

Ally had _seemed_ happy enough as they had chatted with Mike in the driveway. Mike showed them the new flowerbeds around the side of the house. He had finally gotten around to planting the bulbs, just in time. By spring, there would be all of Mimis favourites; tulips, jonquils, irises and lilies.

They had all looked at the freshly dug earth, and looked away.

Ally had looked into mikes dark eyes and gently wiped dirt from his cheek. Austins eyes had followed the movement, her lovely slim fingers so tender. He rubbed at his own cheek, which was tingling.

She had even linked her fingers loosely in Austins, giving his arm a playful swing as they walked to his car.

Her thoughts were nothing but Mike, Mimi, the weather, the garden. Austin had felt relief and a strange euphoria that they were getting away from this place for a bit, laying the sadness down in mikes flowerbed, and that she was with him. For an entire afternoon, she was all his.

As soon as she got into the car though, it was like she shut down. He realized that it had all been a show for mikes benefit. He had felt a jolt, deep in his stomach, as he realized how good an actor she could be, even in her thoughts.

The silence had stretched on unbearably, until he could bear it no longer and turned up the stereo as loud as it would go. He was glad he'd replaced the original radio. The drums reminded him of gunshots, soothing his suddenly frayed nerves. He wondered what sort of music she liked; he couldn't remember.

He suddenly became excruciatingly aware that all the lyrics seemed laden with meaning and subliminal messages, all words of pleading and misunderstandings and need, and he changed tracks compulsively, barraging them with shards of music. He didn't want her to think he was giving her messages through song. That would be just too fucking pathetic.

Ally sat, twisted away from him in her seat, one foot tucked up on the seat and her arms around her knee. Her eyes were trained on the never ending rows of silvered trunks and spear ferns that lined the road. Those trees had seen them pass so many times before.

She appeared tranquil, untouchable, seemingly unperturbed by the assaults on her ear drums. Her face was as smooth as if she was listening to Brahms in a concert hall. He wanted to shake her up; activate her. She looked like she wasn't here. Her eyes were mirrors.

He fantasized about pulling the car over, taking her face in his hands, making her eyes flash, her pulse spike. He imagined rubbing his lips over her cheekbones, and licking at her honeyed mouth. Sucking on her fingertips, rolling the sensitive pads against his tongue, scraping his teeth against her nails. Anything to just relight the spark inside her. Frustration blasted through him, and he clamped it down, gripping the steering wheel like a life preserver.

The stretch of road was like something out of a dream. Bella was teetering on the edge of déjà vu, not realising that it was because the light was the same in Austins bedroom. The light filtered pale amber through the remaining maple leaves and feathery pines that clasped themselves together over the winding road, dropping weak sunbursts onto the windshield.

With each twist in the road, ally and Austin leaned together, then away from each other.

Austin was too big for this tiny car and he seemed to fill it up with his endless legs. The seats were low and his casually flung out arm rested against hers. She could feel his eyes on her constantly. His leather jacket was brushing against her upper arm. Even his clothes were begging for her attention. She watched his hand holding the slim steering wheel out of the corner of her eye, noted the tension in his forearm.

The car smelt like dust, oil, leather and Austin.

Ally liked to imagine Mike driving it around campus, the gorgeous young medical student she had seen in so many old photos. She half smiled wistfully as she imagined him taking Mimi out for their first date in this car.  
How lovely it must have been, she thought. To be on a date with the one you were meant for.

She could only imagine how Mimi must have felt, sitting where she was sitting now, looking over at Mike, knowing she was home. His goodness and pureness shining through him like a stained glass window. Gentle. Romantic. Faithful.

If only these gifts had been genetic, she thought darkly, looking over at Austin, who appeared to be having some sort of musical seizure. He was wrenching the car around each bend as though he was fighting with it, like it was an out of control horse. Occasionally, he wrapped his long fingers around the stick shift and kicked at the clutch, as though trying to make the car submit.

He looked over at her for the hundredth time, and she avoided his eyes, running her hand over the dashboard instead.

The beautiful car ran well and still earned admiring glances. Mike still occasionally took it out for a drive. But mainly it lay in the garage, covered in tarpaulins, languishing for Austin.

Austin reached for her hand, but she snatched it back defensively and sat on it. He sighed heavily, and crammed his Raybans onto his face. He began digging around in the glove box, finally unearthing a pale pink lollipop.

He offered it to ally, who shook her head. He tore the wrapper off with his teeth, spat it onto his lap and stuck it in his cheek.

"What the fuck's the matter?" He asked finally, his voice thick. He rolled the ball of sugar against the tip of his tongue, the strawberry unexpectedly tart.

She turned to look at him. Her eyes were so tired that he looked back at the road. She let out a sigh that seemed to come from her bones, debating what good could come of this argument.

"When did you turn into the queen of passive aggression?" Austin demanded curtly. "Just spit it out."

"I know that you tried to call Elliot last night," she said so quietly that Austin turned down the stereo.

"Oh, that," he said, and burst out laughing. "Yes. Busted."

He overtook a truck, relieved. He could work this out. He'd done worse than this before, and she'd forgiven him. He began to hum in time to the music, his fingers tapping the wheel.

"Well, I can't say I'm surprised, but I'm really angry and upset that you did that," ally continued. He stopped humming.

"You haven't changed a bit in six years." Ally knew she was wrong to make such simplified statements about someone so complex. She remembered what he did for a living, and tamped down twin feelings of guilt and annoyance.

There was a long silence.

"But I didn't get through, so no harm done," Austin said. "I won't try it again. I promise." His contrite blink was wasted behind his sunglasses.

"I suppose it's a sad reflection on us that I'm not surprised by your constant interference." She laced her fingers together to still their trembling.

"What's a sad reflection?" Austin responded, bristling. "I need to speak to this guy."

"Why? So you can strategize better? Make yourself better than him? Break us up?" Her words rang in the car like a bell.  
It was exactly the sort of thing he would do, and he snorted in delight despite himself.

If only he had grown out of his obsessive desire to keep her to himself, she thought in desperation. It was a game he never grew tired of. But it made no sense to her, because he didn't even want the prize he constantly sought.

"Even if you got me, you wouldn't have the first clue what to do with me." As soon as the words left her mouth, she burned with embarrassment. That had come out all wrong.

He pulled the lollipop from his mouth, rubbing it over his bottom lip insolently, making it sticky and pink.

"I would know _exactly_ what to do with you. I've had so many years to think it over." He held the glistening lollipop aloft suggestively, and then put it back on his tongue. "I'd suck on you, until you dissolved."

She dropped her hair to conceal her red cheeks. His lips quirked at her shyness, and risked a squeeze of her denim-clad thigh.

"Lighten up. We're out of the house. We're going to the beach, just you and me." He smiled at her rakishly, his perfect teeth lightly nibbling the stick. She narrowed her eyes, refusing to be dragged into his orbit. When he was happy, he was all but impossible to resist.

"Can't we just have fun?" He said impatiently, his smile fading. There was so little time, and they were wasting it. She was still closed, locked off, stubbornly refusing to let go. He'd know that mouth anywhere. A little pout that just needed a good kiss.

"No." She replied. "And this conversation is not over. I know-"

He tried to distract her by walking his fingers up her thigh. She continued, delivering a stinging slap to his hand.

"I know that you tried to call any as well."

He glanced in the rear view mirror as if he hadn't heard.

"Why would you pick that name, of all the people to call?" Ally prayed that it was random. Maybe he had started with the A's and had been interrupted.

For once, Austin told the truth straight away.

"I saw a message that you sent her that seemed strange. Don't worry, I only got her voicemail. Amy from the Portland Psychology Centre." He stuck his still smarting hand into his hair.

"Why are you going there?" He paused. "Oh, wait. Is she just a friend of yours?"

Ally laughed hollowly. "No, Austin, you don't get out of this one. Yes, I see a psychologist. I've been in therapy in one form or another ever since I left here."

Austin suddenly hated this conversation.

He blurted out the words that always seemed to be on the tip of his tongue when he was with her.

"Is this about me?"

Her sigh was harsh, impatient. "Yes. This is one instance where it is, in fact, all about you."

He swerved the car abruptly around a rental car full of tourists, knocking her about in her seat.

His voice was soft. "I know I was really difficult to live with when we were growing up. How could I not know that? But you've always known how to handle me."

He cast a look at her, and was dismayed to see how hopeless her expression was as she gazed unseeing out into the forest.

"You just don't get it, do you?" she whispered, almost not speaking to him at all. "You will never understand."

"Make me understand then," he offered rashly.  
"If that's what it takes, you can scream at me. You can tell me all the awful things that I've done. We won't leave this beach until I understand, and you feel better." He paused. "And you can tell me why you went away."

Ally looked at her own reflection in the car's window, speaking to herself as well as him.

"I hope you're prepared to take a long walk, then."

*o*o*o*o*o*o

The curved black whip of road finally ended, curling into a gravel parking lot, and ally leapt from the car the moment it was stationary, the scent of the sea engulfing her.

Austin suddenly found it necessary to double check his bag of equipment.

She walked from the car park without a backwards glance. The wind pushed against her legs, nudging her along, moving her away from him.

She shielded her eyes. She hadn't been here in years; probably since they were kids. Even then, they usually went to First Beach for swimming.

It was as if this beach was where the sea stored its surplus. The entire beach was lined with driftwood. Not just pieces, but entire, bleached trunks, heaped by the hands of the ocean in surprisingly neat formations, ghostly grey against their backdrop of forest.

Austin was right; the tide was out. Usually, the skipping stones beneath her feet would be stained black by the water, but now they were dry; lilacs and ivory.

She nibbled on her lip as she thought back to earlier that morning, and the call she had answered as she left Austins room.

"Ally it's Amy. Is everything OK?" Amy's voice had sounded concerned.

Ally let herself into the white room, wandered to the window. She half smiled as she saw Mikeout pruning the rose bushes. The bare branches clutched at him as he methodically snipped them away, his actions as though he were chiding naughty children.

"I'm fine, Amy. It's all fine. I mean, yesterday was a bit of a disaster, but…"

Amy interrupted her.

"I had a missed call from your cell last night. Really late. I was worried."

The realisation spread inside her and she opened her mouth.

"The voicemail message that was left was very odd. I'm guessing you weren't there? It was a man talking, but I don't think he knew he was through to voicemail. He just said 'psychology?' "

Ally rested her forehead against the window. "That would have been the infamous Austin."

"Don't panic ally," Amy said quickly, reassuringly. "I would never give out confidential information about my clients."

Ally sighed heavily. "Don't worry. He has a way of getting confidential information out of me any time he likes."

"Are you referring to his manipulation?" Amy asked. "Remember the things we've worked on. You can only be manipulated if you allow it."

"It's a bit more complicated than that," ally admitted, walking to sit on the edge of her bed.  
She hadn't ever mentioned Austins particular gift. She would have sounded completely crazy.

This annoyance never faded. She couldn't even be completely honest with her therapist because of Austin. Or with anyone, for that matter. He continually robbed her of any chance at total honesty.

Ally lowered her voice. "Yesterday went terribly. I feel so guilty. He kissed me within hours of arriving. And I could barely pull myself away. He's still got so much hold over me."

There was silence as Amy formulated her advice.

"Well, ally, you need to talk this out with Austin. If he's going to insist on spending time with you when you're down there, this might be a good opportunity to tell him how his behaviour impacted on you . And maybe Elliot can join you down there soon. Remind Austin that you're not available any more."

Allys stomach clutched in terror. Elliot wouldn't make it out alive. She wouldn't be covering that court case; she'd be a key witness.

"Austin stole my phone last night, I'm pretty sure he tried to call Elliot too."

Amy laughed softly. "He's behaving like a child. Just don't give him the satisfaction."

Indeed, thought ally sourly, as she continued along the beach, her shoes slipping on the polished stones and petrified wood. The wind was picking up, and the smudgy clouds on the horizon hinted at a brewing storm offshore. There was a line of hikers, off in the distance, but apart from that, the beach was deserted.

She picked her way further along and found a low log to sit on. She watched Austin, starkly black against the dove greys, as he slowly approached. His jeans lovingly detailed his thighs as he bent to examine the inside of a log's hollow. He had his camera strap wrapped around his wrist, and he occasionally took quick shots of the huge hulking rock formations off the coast, the stones beneath his feet.

She stood up and continued walking. He took some cursory frames of the driftwood stacks, barely looking at them, and ran to catch up with her.

He walked in front of her backwards, raising his camera. She seemed unperturbed by having an impromptu paparazzo.

He caught her, held her in his viewfinder, and began to take shots.

The wind helpfully lifted her hair and tumbled it gently around her face, ribbons of brown and black. Her eyes, huge and liquid in her pale face, almost seemed to see straight through him as she advanced.

He began to circle her slowly, his finger pressed almost continuously on the button. Such great light, he told himself.

Finally she stopped, giving him a bored look, tired of it. He took one final shot, this time of her profile as she turned to look at the hulking rocks off the coast.

"Come on," he said, bumping his shoulder against hers companionably. "We've got a long way to go."

"Where _are_ we going?" she asked. "I thought we were having lunch somewhere."

He looked at for a long moment, then squinted off to the horizon.

"We're going to The Hole in the Wall." He watched her, gauging her reaction.

Ally had forgotten about this beach's major drawcard. It was a natural archway in one of the rock formations that could only be accessed in low tide. A natural arch, it was a major drawcard for the area. It was miles away. It would take hours.

She looked down at her sandy sneakers, back at the car, and then back at Austin, completely torn. She really did not want to go so far. The wind was picking up, and over Austins shoulder she saw a lightening strike the sea.

"Are we doing this?" He said, but she knew he meant more.

For the first time in years, it was she who held out her hand, and for the first time he took it reluctantly.

They began the long trek, and the silence was disrupted only by the shrieks of sea birds and the endless surge of the surf.

She cast her mind back, to that awful night, and poured her mind into the hand that held hers.

* * *

**A/N: you guys are so amazing reading and reviewing and I want you to know I appreciate that you take the time to do it so thank you. Please keep it up and let me know what you think**


	10. Chapter 10

**Since it took me so long to update last time I decided to post another chapter. I hope you enjoy it!**

**I do not own Austin and ally or this story, it belongs to The Black arrow. **

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Flight  
**

Allys heart had tripped and skipped for hours before the New Years Eve party. The moon Dimension was crammed full of strangers preparing the house. There were caterers in the kitchen, baking tiny appetisers in batches. There were florists arranging huge urns of flowers. The air smelt like blossoms and pastry.

Hundreds of tea lights lined the stairs to the house, flanked the stairs, waiting to be lit at last. There was a man raking the gravel in the driveway.

Ally had been overwhelmed by the hive of activity and had gone back to Lesters house to get ready with piper.

In the few months that piper had been at Marino High, she was the only one who had bothered getting to know ally.  
She was Allys new best friend by default- she was actually her only friend, other than Austin and Ethan.

Ally tentatively trusted her. She was fun, and light, and made her feel normal. She was quirky and deemed slightly eccentric.  
It was no wonder she got along so famously with Mimi when she came to visit. She greeted Austin for the first time with a polite smile and a firm handshake, and then crossed to Ethan to give him the same.

She therefore passed the test. She never fished for information about Austin, and was only interested in being outside, walking, talking and people watching.

Piper looked gorgeous as always that night, even though she had only given a cursory consideration to her appearance. She stood in a plain grey wool dress, and yellow ballet flats, no makeup and long blonde hair. She looked amazing. Ally analysed the outfit over and over, trying to put her finger on what made it work, before realising it was confidence.

Ally was wearing the red dress that Mimi gave her for Christmas, but confidence was sorely lacking in her respect. The dress was exposing too much. Her arms and legs were lily white, and the feeling of the stiff silk tickling against her legs instead of denim was unsettling.

Still, as the girls talked, ally gradually forgot about how much she was revealing.

Ally sat on the edge of the bathtub with her head tipped forward as piper stood over her, winding her hair around a curling iron methodically.

"Have you made a decision yet?" Piper asked.

Ally felt sick again, and dragged breath into her trembling lungs.

There had been a meeting at school several weeks ago. The school counselor had submitted some of her school newspaper articles to an International student placement network, and ally had been offered a three month scholarship in their Journalism and Communications program.

It would mean initially interning for a medical aid organisation, learning to write press releases and publicity articles. It was an amazing opportunity that could be counted as partial credit for college.

However, she was under no delusions as to why she had been so conveniently nominated.

Austin had become increasingly unstable in the last few months and the strain was showing on both of them.  
It was as if her resistance was eating at him. He was constantly furious, on edge. Testosterone trickled, seemingly undiluted, through his veins.

He had been recently suspended for a week for a knocking out the upper incisor of a foolhardy male during gym. Austins defence was that he had made an undisclosed remark about Allys gym skirt.

"A notoriously hard tooth to knock out, so they say," Austin had said afterwards as he lay on her bed, busily tearing a deck of cards to shreds.

"Of course, it's not that difficult if you have enough motivation," he mused arrogantly.

Austin, thoroughly disgraced, had been placed under house arrest. He was restless, roaming the hallways, his hands desperate for sensation.

He stroked the picture frames he passed, and scratched the banisters as he descended. He took no pleasure in his photography.

He slid into rooms soundlessly, making Mimi spill her coffee on the white needlepoint tablecloth.

He used all the hot water. He ate everything in the refrigerator.

Being imprisoned and being apart from ally was not an entire loss. His schedule was now pleasingly free to dream up new ways to toy with her; to give full consideration to various Machiavellian blueprints, which if executed correctly, would almost certainly result in her passionately kissing him in front of the basketball team.

Mike, arriving home from the hospital into the fog of male hormone, had gently suggested that ally decamp to her barren, impersonal bedroom at Lester. Austin watched from the window like a ghoul as she climbed into the car.

At the school conference, which Mike and Mimi attended without question, ally was asked to wait outside.

She could still hear through the wafer walls the other reasons for her to take the internship.  
It would enable her to break free from this unhealthy co dependence. Anyone could see she was a good girl being taken over entirely. Her excellent grades were starting to slip; she was obviously unwell and exhausted. Attempts to send her to another school had failed.

Tears made the florescent lights starry as she had heard the moons murmured apologies to Lester. Their promises to pay for her flights.

Ally told piper that she hadn't decided yet. Lester was letting her decide, but her passport had arrived that morning. It lay in her bedside drawer, glowing, radioactive.

"But what are you going to do about Austin?" Piper asked, and ally had been glad that her head was upside down and that her face was hidden by half formed curls. She pretended ignorance.

"Well," piper had said, "He's not going to let you go."

This was not news to ally.

"Why don't you want Austin?" Piper asked, genuinely interested. "He's supremely gorgeous, and he adores you."

"He'd eat me alive," ally had replied. "It's complicated enough already. If we had sex, it would make him even worse."

Piper had laughed. "It's so romantic." She kept curling. "I wish I had someone who felt that way about me. He's darkly, desperately in love with you." Her voice had a strange note in it, and Allys brow creased.

Piper was as always undeterred by Allys silence. "If someone loved me like that, I wouldn't know how to handle it."

"I still don't know how to handle it," ally told her. "It's too much. Besides, he doesn't feel that way about me, exactly. I don't know what he feels."

"What about you?" Piper asked, sitting her upright and pinning the curls up onto the top of her head. "Are you in love with him?"

"God, no," ally told the one lie she could actually deliver convincingly.

"We were raised together. He's practically my brother."

The familiar knot of panic settled in her stomach when female acquaintances wove Austin into conversation.

Piper wasn't so much subtly weaving. She was spray painting. Ally turned up the stereo in an attempt to signal that the conversation was over.

"Be truthful," Piper persisted, shouting over the music as ally misted herself with perfume.  
"You can't tell me you haven't thought about it. You sleep down the hall from him."  
Ally said nothing. Of course she had thought about it. Every day, for years.

Lester drove the girls to the party. He muttered as he pulled up in the moons drive that he would come to the party after his shift ended. He hated parties. He probably would go straight home and make an excuse.

Ally walked up the stairs into the moon house, the same house she had been in virtually every day since her mother's death, yet she hardly recognized it. It was beautiful; finally achieving its full potential. The house was full of people, elegantly dressed, handling crystal glasses and taking morsels from passing wait staff.

There was Ella Fitzgerald music playing. Ally, in her red dress, curls and red lipstick, suddenly felt like they were all in wartime, closeted together to make the most of each other's company and any pinch of luxury they could find. To live, and love, before the air raid sirens started.

Ally was pierced by the image, and felt young and impossibly happy. She was able to walk into the room with more confidence, with pipers arm linked through hers. The atmosphere was suddenly filled with possibilities. There were some classmates there, and as Mike smilingly handed her an inch of champagne, ally locked eyes with Austin.

He looked like the devil in the tuxedo that Mimi had insisted on. His hair was ruffled and twisted, and his eyes stripped the dress from her curves as she shivered.

Ally leant against the wall for support, chatting with Piper, and watched him surreptitiously throughout the evening.

He sat directly opposite her, across the room in the centre of a small grouping of chairs against the wall, slouched in boredom, his detested bowtie already dragged loose. He hadn't even bothered shaving. He had his camera with him, but was not taking photos of the guests as requested by Mimi. He shook his head at all offerings of food by the wait staff. He ignored everyone around him.

He did nothing but sprawl in his seat, motionless, except for his eyes.

Austin looked at her once in about every twenty seconds. Ally timed him. She stole another glass of unattended champagne, attempting to quench the fire in her chest. He frowned as he saw her tip the glass back, yet his eyes hinted at a perplexed amusement.

She saw him ignoring girls who tugged at his sleeves, her breath catching in her throat every time his lamplight eyes caught hers. Her pulse felt like a fingertip softly tapping at her throat. Faster now.

She smoothed her dress down, and his eyes followed her hands as she adjusted the low neckline. He raked his eyes down over her dress and her exposed limbs.

His jaw flexed as she spoke with one of Ethan's male friends, but he made no move from his seat.

Mike beckoned to Austin. He reluctantly stood and walked directly towards her, cutting through the crowd, and her knees trembled.

He snapped his eyes away from hers and veered towards Mike.

Suddenly shaky, shy, she went to the bathroom, locked herself in and studied herself in the mirror. Wondered what he was looking at.

She realised she looked like a different person. Piper had somehow sculpted her into a more beautiful, more alluring version of herself. Her skin was milk white, her dark eyes sultry beneath their black feathery lashes. Her body was an hourglass, wrapped in silk; unadorned by jewellery.

She checked her lipstick and stepped back out. Her stomach was suddenly sweetly sick.

She closed the bathroom door behind her as Austin walked past, carrying some bags of ice up from the cellar. She took his sleeve on impulse, feeling bold.

"I need to talk to you," she whispered, her nerves skittering through her.

"I need to tell you something, in private."

He arched away from her as she tugged on his lapel. She looked down at the dripping bags of ice between them. "Meet me upstairs?"

He nodded, his face completely blank, but said nothing.

She went upstairs, the champagne suddenly hitting her bloodstream, making her feel light as air. She concentrated on her feet, and watched her beautiful shoes climb each stair. One step closer.

She didn't know exactly what she wanted to do, but she was glad she had nice underwear on.

She mentally gasped at the thought, telling herself that nothing was decided, that she could change her mind at any moment.  
But she knew the moment Austin realised what she was considering, the zip on her dress would be sliding down.

She felt ashamed of herself as she realised that it was possibly the prospect of a separation that was making her act.  
Though, she reminded herself, that decision wasn't entirely made either. Her thoughts were fluttering. She would have to put it out of her mind, otherwise he would get upset.

Her body was assuring her that the decision was made. She felt herself growing hot, sensitive.

It was amazing how free she felt, she mused giddily. She should stop fighting him, fighting this pull. To give her body what it had been craving for so long. Maybe Piper was right; maybe he loved her enough that it could work. Maybe he just needed to be shown that he loved her, and how much.

Fate and destiny layered in her bones as she looked down from the top of the stairs, saw Mike and Mimi steal a quick kiss before parting to check on the kitchen and their guests. The warmth and energy of the house seemed to steam upwards, making her flush.

Her blood throbbed thick in her veins. She walked to the end of the hallway, and sat on the end of Austins bed.

After about ten minutes of agonised waiting, ally emerged.

"Austin?" she called.

She felt foolish as she realised he had probably been waiting in her room. She ran her finger down the wall as she approached the white door.

She paused, and could hear noises from within. With a sick kind of slow motion, she touched the door handle and for once it opened without creaking. The door slid open like a theatre curtain.

Austin was kneeling over Piper, thrusting into her. Her dress was pushed up her thighs, and his tuxedo pants were undone. Alice was laughing softly up at him, her hands grasping his shoulders.

Ally could do nothing but stand and stare, her hand clutching at her throat. Nausea roiled and she thought she would throw up.

Both Austin and Piper turned their heads at the same moment, like mirror images of each other.

Piper looked stricken. Austin did not look remotely surprised to see ally. He pushed himself away from Piper, turning to do up his pants. He rubbed at the back of his neck.

A sob broke free from Allys throat. She slowly stepped out of her high heels, and ran barefoot down the stairs.

"Ally?" Mimi called as she lurched past, out onto the stone steps, across the gravel drive, every step biting and crippling.

The air was cold and cut her flesh to pieces, but she was glad of it. She ran across the fields. It was a clear, full moon. She could hear Austin in pursuit, his harsh breathing. She slipped on the frosted grass, landed on her hip, ruining her dress. She staggered to her feet, her breath rattling in her lungs.

She ran like she was running from the hounds of hell.

She ran until she burned where once she was ice, and could not feel anything; the bruising on her side, the numbing cold, the broken heart.

She could hear his steady footfalls growing closer and closer. He was panting her name with each exhalation.

She ran up the stairs to her house and into the kitchen. Lester was standing there in dress slacks and a button up white shirt. There was a bottle of wine on table. He had been planning to come to the party after all.

Lester gaped at her in complete horror. Ally grabbed his shirt, ruining it, covering it with dirt and mud.

"Austins following me. Don't let him in! Please. Just make him leave," she begged. He took her icy shoulders and demanded to know what had happened, asked if he had hurt her.

No- yes- no- she stammered. Her feet were in agony; cut from rocks and so cold that the warmth of the room was lancing them with pins.

"I'll deal with him. Go upstairs and shower." Lesters face was grey.

He picked up his service revolver and stood on the front porch.

Ally stood numbly under the spray of hot water, watching the mud swirl away down the drain. The cuts on her feet stung so much her moan echoed off the tiles.

She washed away the lovely curls, rubbed off the lipstick, let the perfume run off her skin. She washed away that momentary, foolish decision. She made her eyes stare and would not let herself cry. The thought of her father downstairs, taking care of things, was too much. One acid tear leaked out.

She came downstairs, her ruined feet tender. Lester sat impassively in his armchair.

"He's gone," he commented curtly, observing her limping. "Disinfect those cuts."

"Please, I want to go away." She said softly, looking at the floor. "I have to get away from this."

He nodded, and they existed together in the room for several minutes of awkward silence, until it was obvious he would say no more, and she crept back up the stairs.

She just wanted to vanish.

She wanted it to be as if she had never existed.

As she huddled in bed, she finally cried.

This was what she got for making rash decisions. This was what she got for trusting, for believing that a dress and some lipstick could make all the difference. With every sob, the layer around her heart tightened.

She couldn't get warm and the cuts were so deep.

"I left the next day at lunchtime. Lester drove me to Seattle, and I went and stayed with my grandparents for a week before my flight out of the States. You didn't try to contact me. I didn't hear from you for five months." Ally said, aloud, exhausted.

She slipped her hand from his. The wind whipped at her hair. The storm was getting closer.

His eyes were still hidden behind his glasses.

He said nothing, and the feeling of embarrassed hopelessness clogged her throat. She had just told him everything, and he didn't say a word.

"I ended up going to South Africa first. I drafted press releases for Medecins Sans Frontieres."

Still, nothing.

Ally hated being stranded on this beach with him, with her worst day laid at his feet.

He walked, kicking away stones that crowded his boot, making her flinch.

The Hole in the Wall loomed up ahead, surprisingly close.

"Can I tell you my version of that night?" He asked suddenly, pushing his sunglasses onto the top of his head. He swung her around to face him.

"Is there any point?" She asked, and he looked at her with real disappointment.

"Ally, I am an asshole, but you cannot deny me this: I listened to you. Would you extend me the same courtesy?"

She opened her mouth, could not find the words, and he just looked at her for the longest time. He then turned and continued walking.

Fury knocked her down from behind, stamping up her spine, and the control on her patience snapped. She was tired of making allowances for him, for his behaviour, for handling him like a difficult child. He had effectively just dismissed her, and as she strode after him, the uneven sand and stones gave her a slight wobble, enraging her further.

She caught up with him and grabbed his wrist, dragging him around to face her.

He pulled his hand back as her anger sliced at him, but she held him so tight, he could not extricate himself.

Ally stared up into his eyes, her own narrowed and pitiless. And remembered.

She remembered flinching away from the touch of a male colleague as he accidentally brushed the back of her palm, the look of horror on the man's face, evidently wondering what had been done to her. Not being able to explain herself.

The panic attack she had half an hour before Elliot was due to pick her up for their first date. The feeling of the bathroom floor's tiles beneath her cheek as her heart pounded until she thought it would implode. The adrenalin boosting and poisoning her blood, blurring her eyes and weighting her down. The weak sickness that pervaded afterwards, robbing her of her appetite, the ability to smile and be normal as she sat across from Elliot in the restaurant. The constant reflex to look over her shoulder.

Austin pulled back his hand harder now, stepping back, blinking hard, but she stepped forward and dug her nails into the back of his hand. She grabbed a hold of his belt, the leather warm beneath her hand, and held him still with all of her strength.

His face was pinched, and she continued slapping him with the images, faster now, all out of chronological order. The cuts on her feet. Standing on the sidelines, always avoided and alone, the feeling of always being watched. The snide whispering behind her as she passed in the halls.

No privacy. No secrets. The locked door. Lesters look as she stood at the foot of the stairs, asking to leave. The sheer terror of arriving in a foreign country, so alone, feeling like the last remaining human being on Earth. The strangeness of being able to meet the eyes of other people; people who didn't know who she was, who Austin was, his gift and her unrelenting weakness.

Sleeping in silence for the first time in years.

The first female friend she made when starting at the newspaper; their regular ten o'clock coffee and cookie ritual.

Feeling anonymous, faceless in the city, cut adrift, hating it, loving it.

Being fifteen years old, watching an old black and white movie at the moons, watching a squirming heroine tied to the tracks as a train predictably loomed closer, billowing white smoke. Looking over at Austin and thinking, with a sick, strange fascination, that this dramatisation was exactly what her life was like. But the only person who could rescue her was the one that bound her.

The night she slept with Elliot for the first time, after eight months of his persistence and patience, the feel of the cotton sheet beneath her cheek afterwards as he ran his hand up her arm, her secrets safe.

Austin reared back in horror, his breath caught in his throat and his belt cutting into her fingers.  
She released him. They both stood, breathing heavily, staring at each other.

Ally would think later, that the strangest thing was this.

She had rehearsed this exposition of the New Years Eve fiasco more than any other fantasy when cocooned in her bed. She had dreamed of hurting him, knocking the breath from him, exerting cruelty and power over him.

It had gone exactly as she had always dreamed it would. Even better, in fact. She had told her story, finally gotten him to listen to the events that had been the catalyst for the severing the ties that bound them. She had made him understand the pain he had caused, she was sure of it.  
She had seen the look in his eyes as she finally released him, had seen him flex his fingers in pain as he staggered back.

But she watched him walk away from her, his camera swinging useless from his hand, she felt no victory at all.

As she studied his hunched shoulders, she imagined she had almost felt his deep shock and grief through the palm of his hand.

* * *

**A/N: thank you so much for the reviews. Keep them coming and I'll update early again (: **


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I do not own Austin and ally or anything else you may recognize, including this story which belongs to the Black arrow.**

**I'm so sorry for updating so late I know I'm the worst I couldnt get ff to upload on my phone and my laptop is no longer working so thank you for the patience. I will also TRY VERY HARD to update the next two or three days to make up for the long wait. Thank you for the reviews!**

* * *

**Chapter Ten: The Hole in the Wall**

The Hole in the Wall.

How fucking appropriate, Austin thought abstractly as he dropped his bag of gear down on the rocks, beneath the arch and turned to look back for ally.

He knelt down, his eyes never leaving her. His stomach was nauseous, and he buried his stinging fingers in the cold sand. He squinted one eye out of habit.

She was standing, on the tightrope line where the ocean chewed at the sand; just out of reach of its grasping wet fingers. The wind was sucking her towards the tide, which threw itself again and again towards her, slithering just short each time, redoubling its efforts yet always failing. She stood up on her tiptoes as a wave shouldered its way through to her. She looked slight, fragile. Should the Earth tilt on its axis, she would fall, forty fathoms deep.

Ally turned and looked to Austin. He was kneeling under the stone arch, backlit by sky and surf and distant rocks. In that instant, it was like a painting. The sky was a taut canvas, smeared thick and heavy with oils. Lead, chrome, charcoal. A stone cathedral surrounding him, formed by the relentless persistence of the water. He was a hard, black mark, laid down by a sharp brushstroke.

The air was seething, and ally was too. She laid her hands on her ribs, slowing her breaths, fighting to control herself as the anger abated. Since returning to this place, she had lost control of herself more times than she had in the entirety of the previous year. She was definitely reverting back to her former self, she thought, familiar levels of panic and nerves shoring up inside her, twisting her stomach.

She hated being on this beach. She felt like she was standing at the edge of the world. There was too much pain in this day.

Flecks of water pricked at her cheekbones. Initially, it felt like the salt spray, but suddenly the sky cracked open. The wet sand attempted to slow her as she began to hurry towards shelter. Rain fell heavily, long needles of cold water stabbing through her hair, her clothes, running down her neck and down her spine. Her breath was erratic, dragging icy cutting air into her lungs. By the time she reached the arch, she was breathless and drenched. She looked as if she had just fought her way out of the sea.

She stood over him, dripping, watching the wet droplets trickle down his skin.

She hoped she soaked him. Froze him. She let the rain sluice off her hair, onto his face. He didn't move, but his tongue dipped out to lick at the water that ran down the side of his eye, past the corner of his mouth. Her hand itched to slap him.

The rain was sheeting down now, and a strange wind whistled through the arch like they were caught in the tunnel between two worlds. The air was salt and vapours. She stripped off her wet jacket and threw it down onto a rock.

Wordlessly, he got to his feet, and shrugged out of his leather jacket.

She felt her heart swell painfully.

Her only defence against his magnetic pull was to turn to stone as he wrapped it around her, not allowing herself to register the sumptuous warmth. She felt his hands gently twisting her hair into a rope, holding it at the base of her nape and squeezing some of the rain from it. He pulled up the bottom of his t shirt to blot the water from her cheeks, and he was surprised to feel it was hot salt that soaked through to his fingers. She shoved him away abruptly and he pressed the wet cloth against his stomach again.

She backed slowly to sit on her jacket, and stared out at the beach. She was doomed to be trapped here with Austin, until this downpour stopped. She cursed the weather viciously.

Austin was rummaging in his bag. To her surprise, he handed her a bottle of water. She had never known Austin to be prepared before. Perhaps the military had rubbed off on him.

She took it, still avoiding his eyes, and drank deeply.

All she could smell and taste was water.

He dug deeper in the bag, and produced a paper bag that was reasonably intact. He handed it to her and went to stand at the mouth of the archway, his back to her, his t shirt soaked from the spray. She could see steam coming off his shoulders.

She peered inside; to her surprise it was jumbled full of different things.

Cookies, a sandwich, a jewel red apple, chocolate hearts glinting in foil. It looked like a kindergartener's lunch bag.

"Did you make me lunch?" she asked flatly, her eyes narrowed and cynical.

He turned his head slightly, squinting. "Yeah. Some lunch date, I know." He rubbed his neck and heaved a sigh, looking at his leather motorbike boots caked in sand.

"Are you having any?" she said, waggling the bag at him, and he shook his head.

He moved back across to her and lowered himself down smoothly cross legged opposite her. He took an army canteen out of his bag and took a mouthful. She wasn't sure what it was, but she noted his grimace with disapproval.

He stared at her unblinkingly as she slowly ate the sandwich.

It was the same stare she had remembered from across the room on New Years Eve. She shivered in her wet clothes.

As if sensing her train of thought, he spoke. His voice was soft and she could barely hear him over the rain.

"I'm going to tell you now what was happening with me that day. I don't expect you to care at this point. But I'll tell you anyway." He spread his hands over his knees and she noticed his knuckles were white, perhaps from cold, or strain.

"I can't show you, the way you can for me." His hazel eyes were odd in the half-light. "I have to ask you to listen to me."

She sighed and put her face in her hands. She really didn't want to hear this story. It would mean fresh hurts, she was sure of it. Nothing he could say would smooth the old puckered wound on her heart.

It was unfair, how he could pick and choose his words, when her thoughts were always stripped bare to him. But then she remembered Amy saying it might be best to clear the air between them.

Ally repeated the same words he had teased her with the previous night by the fire.

"No editing."

He laughed without humour. "We're a bit beyond that, aren't we?"

"And I don't want to hear excuses, either," she warned him, tucking her hands between her knees. "Everything you've done has been your choice."

The beautiful timbre of his voice made her close her eyes, and the sky rumbled in gleeful satisfaction.

"I remember the same sorts of things you do. Not all the same details, but I remember how I felt that day. Hearing your memories has triggered mine, too. I feel like that day was yesterday, but also a million years ago." He began to scratch at his inner arm, clearly uncomfortable. He was unaccustomed to using words like _feel_. The word tasted strange on his tongue.

"You're right; I was going fucking insane being locked in that house. It was the first time that they'd grounded me that had actually worked.

Not because I couldn't think of a way out. The door wasn't physically locked. I was just so tired, I just let them keep me in."

Allys eyes popped open and she interrupted, her voice harsh.

"YOU were tired? Why on earth would you have been tired? How do you think I felt?"

His face gave little away.

"You know why. I had started getting worse… with you. You were right; it was partly the fact that I couldn't get you to… surrender. It wasn't just sex, though fuck, I was so horny that I felt like licking your bedroom door every night.

It was just this need to have you accept this. What we have." His gaze caught, held, hers.

Her stomach quivered as she saw the ancient glint in his eyes. As the intention of his words shadowed over her.

"I don't like your choice of the word 'surrender'." She shook her head at him.

He leaned back on his hands, and his t shirt rode up. She noticed the edge of something on his side; a raised, silvery stripe. A scar.

He noticed her attention, and covered it briskly.

"I was fighting against myself, I can see that now." He bit his lip as he considered his words.

"I was trying to win you, but also fighting against the connection myself."

"Do you mean how you slept with everything that moved, whilst supposedly pining for me and licking my bedroom door?" She leveled him with her stare, pleased at how forceful her voice sounded.

"I never said I pined," he returned crisply, irritated. "Are you going to listen to me? Do you want to hear me out?"

"By all means, continue," ally said sarcastically, motioning to the downpour. "I'm not going anywhere. Since when were you so self aware, anyway? Why the sudden clarity?"

"I've had years to think this over, and I'd like to think I have a bit more clarity than I did back then."

He sat upright and turned his arm over, baring the sensitive skin of his inner arm to her. Her eyes followed the vein downwards, the clench and release of his bicep as he rubbed his thumb and forefinger together as he formulated his response.

Finally, he sat still.

"I've had a few years of living between then and now. We all have our different forms of therapy. Mine just happened to be in Somali civil war with a camera, instead of…" He trailed off and gestured vaguely.

"On a therapist's couch? Is that what you were going to say? Fuck you."

Her voice was shaky, and she was irritated with herself. She looked away, grimly ordering her eyes not to fill.

"No, that's not what I mean. I just mean, we have different ways of working things out. We're opposites. You go the intellectual route. I go the physical."

He tugged his t shirt down as it inched up again.

His eyes lit in wicked remembrance.

"So. The reasons I was home, roaming around like a lunatic. You're right, I did knock out that guy's tooth. The way I remember it, we were all in gym; the girl's team across the other side of the track.

You were wearing the hideous gym uniform- remember, the bright yellow Spartans t shirt, and the grey skirt, but somehow you were making it look good. Your hair was twisted up on top of your head, and you turned around as if you knew I was looking at you. You waved at me and did your little crinkle smile."

"I don't crinkle," ally said.

"Sure you do. Your nose crinkles," Austin argued. "Quit fucking interrupting. I didn't interrupt you."

She exaggeratedly crinkled her nose at him.

"Anyway, a guy- I can't even remember his name now- stopped behind me, and made some disgusting comment – I doubt you need the details.

I nearly had a brain hemorrhage."

Austin was growing agitated at the memory. He began scratching at his arm again.

"I couldn't believe that he would have the nerve to say anything like that within a mile radius of me, or a hundred mile radius of you. I'd made it pretty fucking clear to the other fuckers in our year. You were fucking off limits.

Look, you probably already know this. I spread the word that we were sleeping together, that anyone who tried anything with you was as good as dead."

Ally shook her head. "I am Jack's complete lack of surprise."

Austins mouth curled in amusement.

"So I turned around, and he just smiled, and said, "Am I right?" like he was trying to make fucking friends with me. But he was just testing me. I tested people all the time; I recognized it when I saw it. I dared him to repeat it. There were guys gathering around us by that point.

"It's so obvious you haven't tapped that yet," he said. "You're fucking desperate for it, and you can't get it."

I told him to get fucked. I was so angry my blood was like battery acid.

I could feel the vibe coming off the other guys. They all hated me, I'd always known it. I was on a warning from the Principal, actually, and really should have just left it alone.

I looked to find you, and you had come across the playing field, and you were just standing there, like thirty yards away. Just standing there, alone, looking at me with these huge eyes. Remember? I told you to leave. I didn't want you to see me talk my way out of this.

But I saw the look in your eye as you turned, and it lit my fuse.

As you walked away, I just put my fist through his mouth. It was as easy as breaking a window."

Ally shook her head. "No, I don't remember most of that." Even as she said the words, he knew she was lying.

The memory was behind her eyes.

Austin, standing alone nonchalantly, against a group of fifteen. The strange, sick indescribable thrill in her stomach as she walked away, hearing the chaos erupt behind her. Walking, her eyes trained on the roofline of the building, not looking back.

"Mike and Mimi lectured me for nearly an hour that night. Dad had sent you home. They told me the usual; it had to stop, I couldn't keep on doing this, if I did this when I was an adult I'd go to jail for assault. Nothing I didn't know. You were in your room with the fucking door locked when I went past in the hall.

So anyway, I just lay there in my room while you were at school the next day. When I couldn't get comfortable, I went and lay in your bed. Creepy, right? I guess. I was so tired, but I couldn't be still. I guess I did walk around the house for most of the day.

I was coming down the stairs that night for the fiftieth fucking time. I was walking past mikes study, when I heard him say your name. I stood against the wall and eavesdropped.

He and Mimi were discussing whether you'd take up this offer, something about going overseas. I hadn't heard a word from you about this. They were talking about paying for flights.

I hadn't even heard so much as a trace of the thought from you. Were you that good at hiding from me? I couldn't be sure. Maybe they were sending you away, and not even you knew. Possibly my little incident the previous day had been the last straw. I went into the bathroom under the stairs.

I had what I think was an anxiety attack or something. It felt like what you showed me before. My heart has never pounded so hard. Never. And I've been in some fucked up situations since then, let me tell you.

I went upstairs and drank a quarter of a bottle of whiskey that I had hidden, just to calm myself down.

I had known for weeks that things were going to change, and soon. The school counselors were already making appointments with us all so that we could get our college plans in place. I hated thinking ahead. I was overwhelmed by the future.

I was barely gripping onto the present and the thought of the years lining up before me, before us…" His voice trailed off, and he drank again from the canteen.

"I couldn't handle it.

That night, I went into mikes study and went through all of his drawers. I read every single fucking piece of paper in that whole room, but I couldn't find anything about you going away. I began to doubt myself, what I'd heard. Maybe they were talking about a time a few years from now? I had always just assumed that we would go to college together.

I was exhausted from being in this constant state of...vigilance. I know it was my own doing, but I just couldn't stop. It was this compulsion that took me over. I just wanted to have you. In any way I could, I needed to have you, but you were constantly resisting me. I couldn't make you see that it was the natural order of things.

You kept yourself so heavily fortified against me, and it completely twisted my mind up.

I had all of these other girls at school who were literally gagging for me, but I didn't want any of them. I slept with them, to prove to myself, and to you, that I had a choice, but they were all so… simple, and plain, compared to you.

You were so much deeper, darker, spicier." He smirked at her slightly now.

"I was always amused when I heard guys at school comment on how good girl vanilla you were.

I knew nothing would be further from the truth. When it came to lust, you were - are - my matching half. Don't bother denying it- you're going all blushy. But we both know it's the truth."

"Don't talk like that," ally interrupted in a small voice, her cheeks indeed flaming pink. "You're disgusting."

Austins eyes flashed in warning. His fingers tightened on his knees.

"You want to stay the victim, do you? I suppose it's more convenient for you to remember yourself as the innocent, virginal young schoolgirl, being stalked down by me."

He paused. "Are we being honest with each other here?"

She nodded, picking at the side of her shoe.

"Your view of yourself, how it was back then, pisses me off. You used to play with me too, ally."

She gaped at him, even as the insidious dark slid into her veins.

"What in hell are you talking about?"

His voice sharpened.

"Let me speak, for fucks sake. You used to deliberately test me. Like I just said, I tested people all the time, and I recognized it when I saw it.

I could see the spark in your eyes when I got jealous. You hated it, but you loved it. You cried at the things I did, but it never stopped you the next time. It was a compulsion for you and as hard as I tried to rise above it, you always knew how to push my buttons. I was like a fucking puppet on a string.

I don't know if you did it consciously, or subconsciously. But as much as you hated it, I could feel your pulse under your skin afterwards. You lied just as well as I did after the things I did, covered things up for me, and kept sleeping down the hall from me. You didn't have to, but you did."

Allys face burned hot. She was hearing things she didn't want to. She shook her head as she averted her eyes from his, hoping her face looked exasperated, bored.

She felt his truth in the marrow of her bones.

She had loved his jealousy.

His jealousy was the only clue he would give her.

Some of her most erotic fantasies were variations on his jealous outbursts. It burned through her blood, made her feel powerful, truly desired. It had been the only sign he would ever give her that there was anything more than careless teasing and torment beneath his glossy veneer.

"Don't put this back on me," she spluttered at him defensively, the unwanted realization sharpening her temper. "You think it's my fault that you treated me that way? You think I goaded you into being a complete tyrant? You asshole."

He shook his head hard, scowling.

"No, that's not what I'm saying at all. I accept that I was completely out of line during our teens. I'm sorry for all the things I did." He picked up a handful of sand, squeezed it, and she saw he was sincere.

"If what I'm saying is untrue, maybe then I am being unfair. But I'm telling you the truth. You know it." He threw the sand aside, challenging her.

She opened her mouth again to argue, to try to preserve herself, but he silenced her with a look.

"Let me finish this. I'm up to the hard bit. Stop interrupting me.

I lay on your bed looking like a hobo in a fucking tuxedo as the house filled up with people. Mimi was pissed off with me; I was supposed to be helping. She was hell bent on me being the perfect gentleman for the evening. But I couldn't play the part.

I just felt like an animal in a trap.

I could see so clearly how linked together you and I always were. Are. We still are. You can deny it, and you can try to sever it with a diamond ring, but you know that we are." He stretched out his legs, crossed his ankles.

"Fuck me, but when I saw you in that red dress I snorted my drink. I had seen you so often in jeans and t shirts; you looked like a stranger. I loved it, that dress, all the miles of legs and arms, but at the same time I didn't like how different you looked.

You looked grown up, and I didn't want you changing so quickly, without my knowledge. I wanted to keep things how they were. You had no idea how you looked."

There was a dramatic crack of thunder overhead as his eyes blackened.

"I still think of you, from time to time, wearing that dress." His breath hummed softly in his throat as his eyes trailed over her.

"Mmm, it was just like red Christmas paper on a luscious little present. Do I rip it off, or peel it off slowly? Do I take little peeks under the edges? Do I give you a little shake, to see what noise you make?"

He raised his eyes heavenward, seemingly caught in a private reverie, and shifted slightly where he sat. He slid one knee up.

"I wonder if you want your wrapping ripped, or peeled off neatly."

Allys mouth dropped open and she started edging back from him. He burned too bright. There were no answers for these sorts of questions.

They locked eyes, hazel against brown.

The answer was Morse code in her pulse.

"But anyway, I sat across the room from you all night, with a raging hard on." He flashed his white teeth in humour. Ally stared at her fingernails.

"I couldn't go and talk to you. I could smell your skin from across the room.

You were with your new friend Piper, who never gave me the time of day before. It was actually kind of a relief. But it was also irritating. Now I had two girls hanging around my house who couldn't give a damn about me."

Ally shook her head at his narcissism. He shrugged.

"You talked to a guy at one point, laughing, touching your hair, sparing me a glance every now and then to gauge my reaction. I didn't like that smile either. It was a different smile to the one you gave me. You looked free, and so happy. When you were with me, it was like you were a kidnap victim or something.

Mike waved me over and I left the room. The interruption was probably… timely. Who knows, maybe he had been watching us.

He sent me down to the cellar to bring up more ice, maybe his smart ass way of telling me to cool off. I stood down there for like five minutes trying to calm the fuck down. I think I actually pressed my face on that bag of ice.

You trapped me against the wall under the stairs when I came up. Your eyes were slightly blurry, because you'd been drinking. You never normally sought me out, and I was suspicious instantly.

You told me you had something you wanted to tell me. In private.

I knew straight away that you were going to tell me you were leaving. All the signs pointed to it. The evening had this awful air of occasion, celebration. I kept half wondering if Mike would break the big news during his traditional speech. I'd heard him say that Lester was turning up later. That was unusual- he never came.

You tried to grab at me, but I pulled back. I didn't want to hear it yet. I needed time to prepare, to come up some sort of strategy.

So I agreed to meet you upstairs. I was feeling sick and things were spiraling out of control. I went through the kitchen with the ice. Piper was standing in there alone with a glass of champagne, eating some leftovers off a platter.

She stared back at me, but she wasn't embarrassed about being caught. Some girls would have been embarrassed, but she wasn't. She just put more pastry triangle things in her mouth, and chewed as she looked me up and down. She looked a bit weird, like she was sizing me up.

I said hey to her, and emptied the ice into the big troughs in the laundry and put another case of champagne in to chill.

I turned around, and she was in the doorway. The light was behind her and I couldn't see her face properly.

"Are you in love with ally?" she asked me, just like that. No hello or anything. And I was suddenly fucking furious.

I told her it was none of her fucking business. She laughed at me.

I tried to brush past her, but she blocked the doorway.

"I know desperate love like that when I see it." She drank the rest of her champagne and put the glass on the ground.

Then she said, "Of course, I know what it looks like. I see it every time I look in the mirror. I know what it's like to be in love with someone who will never love you back."

Austin held up his finger at Allys expression as the wind suddenly blasted between them.

"Don't look at me like that, ally. She didn't mean me. She didn't give a fuck about me.

Anyway, then she said, "I want to feel your desperation." She just smiled at me like she was talking about the weather or some shit.

I had no idea what she was talking about. This was twilight zone shit. Who the fuck just tells someone they want to feel your desperation? But I looked at her.

Fuck, I thought. Her face, her eyes. She looked exactly like me.

She came towards me.

I asked her what the fuck she was on about.

"My boyfriend before I moved here. He dumped me. Said we were better off as friends. He's with someone else now, and it's agony." She looked sad and small.

"I'm sorry," I told her and I rubbed her shoulder. I guess I was trying to be nice. She grabbed my arm.

"Can't you see that you're both wasting time?" She said.

She wrapped her hands around my cuffs and dragged me down to kiss her. It wasn't good; it wasn't sexy. We were both thinking of someone else, and she had tears on her cheeks. I didn't like being with a girl who was thinking of another guy. That had never happened to me before, that's for fucking sure.

I was standing here, robotically kissing this girl literally one floor underneath where you were waiting for me. You were going to tell me you were leaving. Suddenly, I had my answer. One solution; two possible outcomes. Break your heart and drive you away, or make you jealous and somehow make you realise you were in love with me. Make you stay.

I know that makes no sense, maybe?

I couldn't let you leave me. I couldn't. I knew I would humiliate myself. I would beg you to stay. I would probably grovel on my knees, and you would finally realize your… anyway." Austin looked away now, suddenly painfully awkward. A word hung unsaid in the air.

"I was sick of the desperation that Piper recognized in me. That the guys at school saw.

I was so tired of being tied to you; a girl who didn't want me, would never love me like I needed. I hated how addictive your mind was to me. I just wanted to try to be normal. This was the first moment in my life that I didn't want to hear your mind.

The second time was today.

I needed some way to make a clean break. To break the connection. Otherwise, I'd be following you around the world, beating up men in every continent. I knew that I couldn't leave you alone long, but you deserved a head start.

Clearly, all my intentions were all over the place. I didn't know what I wanted. To hurt you, to drive you away, but simultaneously to make you jealous, to finally get you to feel the same kind of passion for me. I was pushing and pulling against it. Like I said, I was a walking contradiction.

"Why the fuck are you doing this?" I asked her. "Aren't you supposed to be her friend, or some shit?"

"She told me she feels nothing for you. That you're like her brother." But she had tears running down her cheeks, down her fucking neck.

I felt like she had punched me in the stomach.

"Let's test the theory." She walked away, down the hall and up the stairs, and I followed her, not sure what she was planning.

I couldn't stop thinking of the spark in your eyes when you got jealous. It must have meant that you felt something stronger than you let me see.

If you'd ever been jealous of me with other girls, you hid it pretty fucking well. Even your thoughts were virtually blank when it came to that.

I wanted a bit of that jealousy. If it took kissing your best friend to get it, then I'd do it. You think you craved my jealousy? I wanted yours a million times more. I didn't think about why she was doing this. I didn't even care that she was your so-called friend. All the more proof that I was the only friend you needed, anyway. I was saving you some time, I told myself.

I told her to wait for a moment. I snuck up to your bedroom. You weren't there. I could see the light under my bedroom door, and I knew that's where you were waiting.

It was despicable, and disgusting, but it just suited the crime so completely. We went into your bedroom.

Piper had stopped crying. I was vaguely disturbed by the situation. There was something seriously wrong with this girl. I asked her what was wrong, and she told me she had a hole in her soul.

I asked her if she was drunk; she was getting terribly maudlin on me. She just smiled, and said that if I had any sense I'd learn that alcohol would do nothing for this kind of ache.

Please, she said to me. Please, just let me pretend for a minute. It's not real, it's just pretending. I'm ally, and you're mason.

That was fucked up and I was pissed off.

I felt like such a prick, because she was obviously really fucked up and fragile, and I guess I was taking advantage of her, but I leant down anyway, and kissed her again. Something must have worked, because she suddenly lifted up against me, and started kissing me properly.

The fact that she had been so indifferent to me, but could suddenly switch, reminded me of everything I'd been hoping for from you. This was how it should have been with you, ally. All I could think about was you. And despite myself, and the sick feeling that this was wrong, the thought of you was enough to make me hard, and I pushed her down on your bed.

She wasn't wasting any time, and she handed me a condom from her dress pocket. I can't tell you if she was planning this; whether it was me, or whether she wanted anyone. It didn't matter. I didn't care. I can't give you any reasons why she did this, other than what I've told you.

I couldn't hear her. I could hear nothing but the sound of my own heart in my ears.

I….just did it. I pushed into her and she started laughing.

"At least look me in the eye," she said. "I know I'm not who you want. You're not who I want either. But you could at least look me in the eye." She tugged on my shoulders, trying to get me to respond to her.

There was suddenly some light from the hallway slid across us and it was like we were in a spotlight. I knew it was you. I knew it before I even turned my head. I knew it, because I had planned it. How ironic, that all my plotting and planning never worked for all those years, but this worked so seamlessly. But that moment, the look on your face was so raw; I wished I could go back in time.

I had made a monumental mistake, yet I had achieved what I'd set out to do. I'd fucked everything up completely. Irreversibly, probably."

He ran his hand through his hair, his expression blank.

"I pulled out of her, and turned around to sort my shit out, but by the time I looked back around, you were gone. Just your shoes there in the doorway, like you'd fucking vanished. I heard Mimi call your name out downstairs. Piper started crying.

I ran down after you, shoving past some of the guests. "What did you do?" Mimi shouted at me as I started to chase you.

You're right; it had been a really clear moon. I should have let you go, and maybe you wouldn't have run so fast, hurt yourself. All my intentions of being noble and giving you a head start on me, but I just couldn't stop myself. Not just yet. I needed to just make sure you got home; I wanted to… I don't know. Maybe I wanted to apologize. Maybe I wanted to hurt you more. Who the fuck knows.

I saw you fall. I could hear your breathing, and I realized you were terrified of me. I slowed up, and let you gain ground.

You were limping really badly.

I stopped and threw up under a tree; the sight of you running like an animal, it was the worst moment of my life.

By the time I got to your house, I didn't know what I wanted, what I would say to you.

I have to say, seeing your dad on the porch gave me a fucking heart attack.

I never spoke more than a few sentences to your dad in all those years.

I hated him. I hated how he could be so neglectful of you. It was like you were nothing to him. Don't get upset, ally, I'm not trying to hurt you more. I just couldn't understand his mindset. All I wanted to do was protect you, guard you. Surely that was what a father should be doing?

I'm perverse, but I would have probably respected him a fuckload more if he had made you move back to his house. Instead, he didn't even care enough to bother. This sounds so strange, but I was pissed off that he hadn't tried hard enough to protect you from… from me. Does this make sense?

But there he is, suddenly deciding to take a parental interest in you, standing there like John fucking Wayne with his gun that had never fired a single bullet. I half wanted him to shoot me. It would have been the humane thing to do.

Look, to say we argued is an understatement. He told me exactly what he had always thought of me. He told me I was a disgusting depraved pervert, preying on his daughter. I actually laughed at that.

"Oh, so you finally care, do you?" I said. "You've just remembered you have a daughter? After turning a blind eye for years?"

He was getting really fucking furious. He actually told me to shut the fuck up.

I couldn't stop myself. I kept goading him. I was aching for a fight, or something, I don't know what. I guess I was really needing to punch, or be punched.

"Mike has been more of a father to her than you ever have," I told him, and went up the stairs. He didn't back down.

"Listen here, you little shit," he said. "I'm only going to say this once. And I'm not going to beat the shit out of you, because I respect your parents too much.

I am sending her away, overseas. And you are not to even think about contacting her. You're not going to know where she is, and I guarantee after whatever stunt you've pulled tonight, she isn't going to tell you. I will fucking lock you in the cells down at the police station if I have to stop you following her to the airport. You are nothing to her. You always have been. You're not good enough for her, and you know it, you little prick." He looked like he wanted to spit on me.

He told me to get the fuck off his property. I made the long walk home.

I took a bottle of champagne from the laundry, and sat on the stairs at the back of the house. I drank the whole thing. I didn't feel like champagne, but I had to at least toast myself for engineering that disaster. What a complete and utter fuck up.

Mimi came out and found me. I told her I had broken your heart, and properly this time. None of the little chips and fractures. The big one. She was kinder to me than I deserved, and took the empty bottle from me. She sat next to me on the stone stair, in her cocktail dress, and she took my hand.

She told me that she knew that I was gifted, and that my life was not easy because of my nature. She told me that hurting people was unacceptable, especially someone I loved so much. She told me that you would be leaving soon.

"It's for the best," she said, and I agreed with her totally, in principle. But I was screaming inside. The thought of you, alone, in another country, surrounded by people I didn't know and didn't trust, made me throw up again.

She rubbed my back as I threw up all of the champagne into a rosemary bush, and she told me something.

She said that if you were meant for me, no matter where you were on Earth, wherever you went you would always be walking towards me. And I would be walking to you.

You know how she believes in soul mates and shit like that.

"Don't tell me where she goes," I said, though I came to regret asking that of her later.

Even the day after you left, I was desperate for you. I couldn't sleep, and when I did, it was nightmares of you, lost. I didn't eat anything for six days. Mike actually made me come into the hospital for an afternoon and sit with a drip in my arm while I stared at the ceiling.

They were all worried about me, but I couldn't understand why. I deserved it all.

They should have been worrying about you. I tried to imagine where you were. I imagined every foreign country I had ever seen or read about, tried to visualize you walking the streets, the reactions of people as they saw how pure and good you were, alternately imagining them being kind or cruel to you. Taking advantage of you, or helping you.

The connection still felt strong to me. You were like a ghost in my house. I slept in your bed instead of mine; I kept searching the room for pieces of you. But Mimi and Mike had emptied your room out so thoroughly.

I searched the study again. I was like a drug addict; certain that some piece of evidence would be in there; so I could at least know which part of the atlas to be staring at.

Ally, I hated that I had hurt you, but it was the only way. I'm truly sorry for it. But it was the only way that I could give you a head start."

"But I eventually came back to the US," ally pointed out, shaken. "I wasn't gone forever."

Austin looked at the ground and began stacking the pebbles.

"By the time you'd gotten back, I was gone," He closed his eyes. "And I was certainly not equipped to have the conversation we're having now."

"You hated me. And I kept hearing from Mimi how well you were doing, how happy you were. I'd fucked things up for most of your life, so believe me when I say that I wanted you to be happy."

Ally closed her eyes and sat for a long time, trying to absorb all of this. His bizarre, tangled logic on that night actually did not surprise her. He was an exercise in contradiction. She knew him too well to be shocked.

He leaned forward. "Can you understand why I did what I did? Even though it was the most awful thing I've done to you?"

"I sort of understand, I guess. I don't agree with what you did."

She turned over his motivations in her mind, inspected them from various angles. They were nothing like what she had expected. She thought she knew him so well. She had thought he had wanted Piper. He cared about me, she thought. Too hard. And he fucked it all up.

Amy had been right. She felt like she had more perspective on it now. They had both been kids back then. Hearing his apology helped a little. Knowing he had suffered too… that gave her a guilty pleasure.

Ally sat, staring at her thumbnail.

"I think we're both going to get some closure from this," she murmured to herself aloud.

Austins head jerked up, and his eyes went hard.

"Closure?" He growled, uncrossing his legs beneath him and pushing himself onto his knees in front of her. "Closure? What the fuck do you mean, closure?"

"So we can get past this. Move on with our lives."

"There is no moving on from this. There is no closure. This is something that can't be closed." He reached out, wrapped his hand around the chilled skin on her ankle above her sneaker.

"You've been hanging out in court rooms too long. This isn't a court case. You're not the judge, and you haven't just heard all the evidence. What happened, happened. I'm sorry for what I did. I'm sorry I hurt you."

She pulled her leg back, resisting him, but he just looked down at her, the grey light ghosting his features.

"Case closed, huh? I'm guilty. Is that how it is?"

"No- Austin, look. I need some time to think all of this through."

He let go of her abruptly and knelt in front of her, between her splayed legs.

"This is all there is." His words were definite as he tenderly traced her cheekbone, sinking his fingers into her hair.

"Tell me now…." He whispered softly under her earlobe, the heat of his breath thawing her skin.

"I've given you a lot of myself today… I just need one thing from you." He wrapped his arms around her waist, his hot sandy fingers rasping across her skin.

She shook her head automatically.

He laughed faintly. _"_Were you jealous?_"_

"Why would you care after all these years?" She made her mind smooth as cream as his stubble lightly electrified each nerve ending in turn along the side of her jaw.

"Same reasons you wanted it, maybe." His breath in her ear made her shudder and twist against him.

He cajoled her shamelessly.

"Oh, go on, tell me. What harm would it do?" He nibbled along her pulse, sucking lightly at it, savouring the tremor in her thoughts. "It's ancient history now, isn't it?"

He felt her resignation, and he abruptly removed his hand from her skin. He wanted her to share willingly, not under the duress of his mental eavesdropping.

She weighed it up. Finally, she evidently decided that it no longer mattered.

"Of course I was jealous." She spoke the words forcefully, matter of factly.

"I was so jealous every time, of every girl. I just had to numb it, or else I would have just—" She bit her lip to stop the words escaping.

He dropped his eyes to her mouth, willing her to say it. His fingers itched to touch her hand, but he stuffed his hand in his back pocket.

She caught the spark in his eye as he twisted away to stand.

"Come on. We'd better head back. Ethan is cooking a family dinner tonight." Austin began repacking his bag.

Ally realized it had stopped raining. She stood, feeling the weight of his jacket across her shoulders.

They left The Hole in the Wall, casting tentative looks sideways when they thought the other wasn't looking.

If either had looked back- which they didn't- they would have seen how their footprints made a constant symmetrical pattern; side by side, moving gradually further apart, but tracking back close again. A constant undulating magnetic pull and push.

The tide began to advance again, inch by inch, sliding up to erase all evidence of their afternoon here. It continued its primeval rhythm, softly easing away granule after granule from the unyielding rocks. One day, it would all mingle and swirl, but for now, it was enough.

* * *

**A/N: thank you for the reviews for the last chapter I'm so glad you like the story**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I do not own Austin and ally or anything else you may recognize including this story that belongs to the black arrow.**

**I wanted to dedicate this chapter to Grace because I love how much you love the story! I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**But as always I appreciate each of you for reviewing so much. It means a lot to me to know you guys are reading and like it so please keep it up!**

* * *

**Chapter 11- Things Unsaid**

The roads were slick black vinyl, and the air that whipped through the inch of window tasted like fresh grass and wet earth. Rare late afternoon sun had broken through, and ally was seeing the countryside in the truly vivid colours that nature had intended, not through the grey filter of clouds. As the sun went down, the sky blushed a hundred variations of peach, layered and whipped over violet.

Ally felt like she hardly needed to steer Austins car at all. She merely rested her fingers lightly on the wheel, allowing the gravitational pull of the moon Dimension to guide the tyres.

She glanced over at Austin, who was folded in the passenger seat, the fingers of his left hand tucked underneath her denim clad thigh. He had fallen asleep within minutes of leaving the Beach parking lot.

She had insisted on driving. He had protested that his army canteen was full of water, but he hadn't let her smell it. She had stood her ground and leaned against the driver's side door, holding out her hand. "I'm taking you back," she insisted. He stood for a long time, his body nearly touching hers, looking over her shoulder at the dunes and forest.

As she tilted her face back to look at his face, she caught a glimpse of his expression before he handed his keys over, his fingertips barely scraping her palm. He was in unfamiliar territory, clearly torn between self preservation and this strange new honesty that hung over them now. She, at least, was used to articulating her feelings.

He slid his sunglasses down and turned away. They hadn't looked each other in the eye since their conversation had ended.

In all the time they had known each other, Austin had _never_ let her drive. The leather was warm as she slid in. She slid the stiff seat forward about a foot with some difficulty. The car was old, and it was used to Austins substantial dimensions and mikes before him. She adjusted the mirror as Austin watched impassively.

She had shed his jacket and handed it to him; he threw it on the backseat. The car was blissfully warm after the gusty beach. She had no courage to check the rear view mirror to see what her hair had transformed into, but she raked it smooth as best she could, wincing at the tangles and snarls.

They had made the long walk back in complete silence, not touching, each processing all that had transpired since they arrived. Ally had no idea what the conversation meant for them now, but the set of Austins shoulders showed he clearly didn't want to talk. She knew there was no point in pressing him; that he always did things in his own time.

She combed and shuffled back through his words as she walked along the beach. Her stomach sent tiny nauseating butterflies rattling through her body as she thought of the depth of his teenage obsession. It was awful…..it was wonderful. She had no idea how she felt about it. It was all tangled inside her, and she needed time alone to unknot it.

A darker, metallic clang of regret echoed through her, but she could not articulate why. Did she regret his pain? Hers? Did she regret that their passion had never culminated, or that his feelings were left to wither and die like fruit on a vine?

She remembered how she had twisted under her sheets for weeks, too tired to cry, listening to the nightly thunderstorms rolling across, advancing relentlessly and dropping enormous raindrops on the roof tiles, feeling ridiculously homesick, and aching for Austin.

Back then, she had presumed herself instantly forgotten by him. Now, she knew, he had suffered as much as she. Her picture of him was altering, and it filled her with uneasiness.

She could almost feel the turn of the globe under her feet as she kept pace with him and they walked abreast into the salty wind. She still could not imagine pain on his face as he thought of her.

Her picture of herself was also shaken, but she decided to think about that later.

Ally now drove back down same roads they had come, but it seemed different now. All the landmarks that she had seen along the way seemed disguised and ambiguous when seen in reverse.

At one point, she became momentarily disoriented when reaching a t-intersection; each direction looked equally right, identical tunnels of trees offering her a wet green oblivion. She had very quietly attempted to wake Austin. She whispered his name twice, with no response. As cowardly as it was, she didn't want to wake him. That would mean an awkward drive and stilted conversation.

After a minute of idling the car and deliberating, she had turned right, and was rewarded after several tense minutes with the road signs indicating home was ahead.

Austin lay heavy and relaxed, his head turned to her, and she could see her own reflection in his sunglasses. She could smell the warmth of the setting sun heating his cotton t shirt. The black band of his boxers peeking out from his jeans proved he spurned colour, even in his underwear choices.

A prickle of awareness made her shiver. She imagined in that split second, as she dragged her eyes from the silk above the belt, that he was watching her. It was incredibly unnerving, and the odd sensation made her blood throb.

His breathing was deep, and he rolled against her softly as the car rounded each bend.

His hand, wedged under her leg, was hot, and she was acutely aware of it; the press of his hard knuckles against the sensitive soft flesh. His need for contact did not surprise her and she thought nothing of it, but was grateful that her skin was shielded from him.

Each time she changed gears, however, her wrist grazed against the back of his forearm. Unluckily, the serpentine road forced her to change gears often. The skin of her wrist was tingling from rubbing over his light golden hair, his dormant muscles, sleeping sinews.

His mouth was a soft pout, as if he was about to kiss, or plead. He gusted a breath, shifting, his endless legs an uncomfortable tangle. He looked ten years younger and utterly vulnerable.

She downshifted as the car began to labour over a small rise in the road and catalogued his face, his beauty. The corners of her mouth plucked into a wistful smile. Her eyes were burnished impossibly bright by the slanting sun.

This was how she would remember him when they parted ways again; she thought sadly as she put her hand on the gearstick again and indicated to turn into the veiled moon drive. She braked slightly and sent the car over the edge of the drive, feeling her stomach drop.

"Stop the car." Austins hard voice in her ear startled her, and she instinctively jammed her foot down, the car fishtailing alarmingly to a stop. She applied the handbrake and looked in the rear view.

"What? What is it? Did I hit something?" She twisted in her seat, looking behind them, knocking the gear into neutral.

He shoved his sunglasses onto the top of his head. "What were you just thinking?" His voice was accusing.

As soon as she looked into his eyes, she could see that the shield was firmly back in place. The beautiful, liquid honesty from a few hours ago had frozen and solidified into the mask he wore every day of his life.

The shell around her heart tightened in response.

"Did I just stop for nothing?" She frowned, praying desperately she was wrong, and began to release the handbrake. The car rolled forward eagerly. They were so close to home. They could still make it without the tenuous status quo being disrupted.

He covered her hand with his, and slowly eased the handbrake up again. He kept his hand wrapped around hers.

He was backlit by sunset through the warped branches and impenetrable undergrowth of the forest, and she blinked against the splintered light.

"How long have you been awake?" Suspicion flitted across her face. He said nothing, just stared at her.

"I want to know where you think we're going." His tone made her toes curl in her shoes.

She knew exactly what he meant, but she gestured ahead.

"We'll go about another half mile, and then we'll stop when we get to the house." She was aware her joke was lame, and he wasn't smiling.

His body was so close. The engine was humming, and her seat was vibrating. It only enhanced the twin currents of panic and craving that jarred through her. The breath was sucked from her lungs as she saw the shadow of something pass across the fathomless arctic green of his eyes. The emotion was gone before she could identify it.

He looked like a predator, a saviour, a confidante, a stranger, folded and faceted within muscle and bone.  
The tiny hairs on the backs of her arms rose up, one at a time.

"We went a long way today," she managed, pressing her shoulders back against the cold, smooth window. "I'm starting to get to know you again."

He closed his eyes briefly and sighed, apparently tamping down his temper.

"You've always known me."

He scraped his bottom lip with his teeth and released her hand, running his hand up her arm in a smooth glide, smoothing the tiny goose-bumps. "You will always know me."

He tilted his head and smoothly leant in close to her.

"Don't do that," she whispered. The scent of his skin was making her mouth water. Tart, hot, salty. She was close enough to lick his neck, to taste that flavour, to feel his pulse.

She realised her breath was ragged, and then felt foolish. She knew what he was doing. He was trying to distract her.

"Don't, Austin. You're using sex to shield yourself from me. You were honest with me today. Don't go ruining it." The words were barely a whisper out of her mouth.

"Well. That's one thing I'm certain to do. I'd better walk back then." He grabbed for the handle and kicked the door open, hauling himself out. He stood for a moment with the door open, and she could see his chest rising and falling. He slammed the door shut hard enough to make her jump, and began to walk.

She put the car back into gear and stalled it.

Austin turned back towards her, shaking his head, his sunglasses back in place. He walked backwards for a moment, and then turned, kicking at the gravel, his thumbs hooked into his pockets.

Ally watched him in the rear view more than she watched the road ahead as she slowly accelerated away. As she got further along the curved road, he eventually disappeared out of sight.

Ally pulled up in the drive and sat for a second, running her finger over the jagged edges of his keys.

She felt a sick jolt when she saw Kira emerge from the front door and come walking towards her; her hands concealed within the sleeves of a sweater that was obviously Ethan's.

Ally threw herself out of the car door. "Is it Mimi? What's happened?"

Kira held up her sleeved hands. "No, no, everything is fine. I was just wondering where you were."

She paused. "Where's Austin?"

Ally gestured down the drive vaguely. "He wanted to walk back. He got out at the top of the drive"

They both turned, and could make out the black figure in the distance.

Kira tucked her tongue in her cheek. "How did the 'date' go?"

She hooked her arm into Allys and began dragging her to the front steps of the house. The sky had darkened and the house was glowing from within. Ally looked up to locate her favourite little stone gargoyle that grimaced down at her from under the eaves. She could relate.

"We all know it was a fake date. God, if that had been a real date, it would have been a disaster. But, it was just par for the course for Austin and me." Ally hoped that Kira wouldn't pursue this, but knew she had no hope.

"I must say," Kira began, her voice drawling, clearly having rehearsed this, "It's fascinating to see you two together," Her eyes sparkled in amusement as ally ducked her face away and pretended to examine the plants near her feet.

"The chemistry between you two could melt titanium." Kira hoisted herself awkwardly onto the low stone pillar at the foot of the stairs. She briefly wondered if she was being cruel, playing with ally like this, but rationalised that it would do ally good to feel something for once. She had been cruising on autopilot for too long.

Kira suddenly drifted off and dreamily indulged herself as she sat on the icy stone, the sudden chill in the air pinching the tip of her nose. She would be slender and fabulous as matron of honour, wearing sky blue, her baby on her hip tossing petals with a chubby starfish hand, making everyone laugh. Austin in a suit. (Kira lingered on this thought for a fraction longer than necessary.) austins face as he saw ally walk towards him, flowers in her hands, Mike at her side. Her lips pursed sourly as the image morphed into Elliot standing at the alter. Yuck.

"There's no use arguing that point." Ally said finally, breaking Kira's strange trance.

"What?" Kira said, wondering how long she had been staring into space.

"The chemistry. I can't deny it." Ally looked at her oddly. Pregnancy was making Kira very strange.

"Has it always been like that?" Kira asked, attempting to sound casually interested. Ally narrowed her eyes at the tone; it was patently obvious that she wanted every gory detail.

"Yes." She said simply.

Kira could have howled in frustration. She wanted details, badly.

"He watches you. I doubt you know how much." She watched the colour heighten on Allys cheekbone as she turned away. She really did look beautiful, Kira thought, looking all wild and alive with tangled hair and sandy shoes.

"He's watched me most of my life. I can feel it. I know how much." Allys eyes followed Austins slowly advancing form as he travelled the blue-grey road that snaked to her feet.

"You go inside. Ethan needs some help in the kitchen. I'll wait here for Austin." Kira turned her face up to the sky.

Ally pulled off her sandy shoes and left them by the door. She walked through the house, following the aroma of cooking and the sound of blues music. She smiled at the sight of Ethan in the kitchen, dressed in a huge beige baker's apron, standing over the flour-covered bench. He was rolling out pastry gently, his face creased in concentration.

Ally tucked herself under his arm and lifted her cheek for his greeting kiss.

"So, how did your 'date' go?" he asked, squeezing her gently with his arm, still rolling. She shook her head ruefully, rounding the bench to sit on a stool. "Kira just asked me the same thing."

"Well?" He asked, not allowing her to sidestep, and dusted the rolling pin with more flour.

"It went fine. We had a huge talk, and cleared the air a bit." There was a strange note in her voice, and Ethan paused, before resuming his rhythmic action.

"What sort of things?" He kept his tone light, conversational.

"We talked about New Years Eve. What he did. Why I left. That sort of thing." She began organizing the ingredients on the counter top; putting everything in a tidy line.

"Did he apologize?" Ethan asked. Ally nodded.

"And how do you feel now?" he asked.

"I'm feeling…Like I can move on from this. I feel a bit better, now that I can understand why he did what he did. Even though what he did was cruel." She finished hurriedly, unsure of how much Ethan knew of that night.

Ethan looked down at the pastry, clearly formulating his words.

"Can I do something?" Ally asked quickly.

He pointed to a ceramic mixing jug, filled with tiny tomatoes. "You could quarter those. We're having tomato, basil and ricotta tarts as starters."

"Lovely," ally murmured as she slid off the stool and began to wash her hands in the sink, looking out at the darkening night and tiny pinpricks of stars. She began to rinse the tomatoes.

"Anyway, we had a talk, and I think that it has been quite therapeutic to get it all out in the open, instead of being this horrible unfinished business between us. I'm feeling like I could get some closure from this. Maybe he and I could even be friends one day."

Ethan paused. "Does Austin know that you want _closure_?" He hated the word, and never used it in his counselling sessions with clients. How could a human being close off something inside them? It was not possible. Humans weren't full of trap doors and secret doorways hidden behind bookcases. The only thing possible was acceptance, forgiveness.

Ally sat and began cutting the tomatoes, her face frowning in concentration, suddenly wishing herself away, out of this room.

"Please be careful with him, ally. He might get hurt from this. He has a hard exterior, and no one thinks of what's underneath." Ethan wanted to say more, but ally was hunched like a school child being reprimanded.

Ally watched her knife slicing through the red flesh, not knowing what to say.

"Nothing will ever happen. I have my own life now. I have Elliot. I'm engaged." She finally whispered, chagrined, feeling awful and unsure. The thought of being able to hurt Austin was frightening. "He knows that nothing is going to come of this."

"Does he? Do _you_? I saw your faces when you were on his lap this morning." Ethan began pressing the pastry into small tins, his fingers easing the pastry slowly, not letting it crack.

Allys face burned and she laid down the knife, heaped the pieces back into the bowl.

"What were our faces?" She asked finally, torn. She wanted to know Austins, but shied away from what her own must have been.

Ethan gestured with one floured hand, feeling sorry for her.

"Let's talk about it later. We're all dressing up for dinner tonight, so you might want to go and get ready."

After her footfalls had disappeared, Ethan rested his hip against the bench and watched through the window as Austin and Kira slowly wound their way through the kitchen garden. Austin, clearly exhausted, was dragging his feet as he walked.

Kira laid her hand on his arm and they halted. Ethan couldn't be sure, but if he knew Kira, he was fairly sure he knew what she was saying.

*o*o*o*o*o*o

"Hey," Austin said to Kira as he crunched gravel under his boots. She was perched at the foot of the stairs, swinging her legs lightly. Her huge, pregnant belly both fascinated and terrified him. He tried not to stare at it, but his eyes kept returning of their own volition.

"Why the long face?" Kira chirruped. "I heard the date went well."

Austin scowled. "Not so much."

He sat down on the step below her and rubbed his fists against his eyes, yawning. She looked down at him, his shoulder-blades sharp, the nape of his neck exposed. He looks so sad, she thought. He is the loneliest person I know. Apart from ally.

Kira stroked the back of his head, feeling suddenly maternal towards him. They sat there together in silence for a long time. The cold was settling down onto them. She rubbed and scratched softly behind his ear, smiling as he leaned his head unconsciously into her hand.

For someone who got so many women, he was completely starved of simple affection, Kira thought. He was like a cat, leaning against her.

"Come on," she said finally. "I need to pick some basil for dinner. Come and help me." He stood and held her elbows as she slid off the pillar to her feet. They walked around the side of the house in silence. Austins face turned up to Allys bedroom window as they passed, like a satellite dish. The window was a black square.

"She's helping Ethan make dinner," Kira said as she hooked her arm through his. Her stomach was making her slower and clumsier than she usually was.

"Do you want to talk about what happened today?"

Austin moaned aloud crossly. "I've been talking all fucking day. A lot of good it's done me."

He climbed into the herb garden and began ripping at various leaves, rubbing them between his fingers and inhaling them, throwing them down. Kira resisted the urge to point out the correct plant.

Finally, he located basil, and broke off a large stem of the juicy dark leaves. "Things are probably fucked up beyond repair with us."  
He handed Kira the basil gallantly, as if he were offering a bouquet. She smiled up at him and took his arm.

"It ain't over til it's over," She said seriously. "Don't give up."

He looked at her sharply in surprise. "What are you saying?"

She winked at him as she began to climb the stone stairs to the patio.

"I'm saying that defeat doesn't suit you."

She paused, and looked down at him. "And denial doesn't suit ally."

*o*o*o*o*o*o

Ally began to walk down the hallway in the only dress she had brought with her. It was heavy chocolate jersey, warm and clinging, and the cowl neck revealed modest cleavage. She had tossed it in her bag at the last minute when packing, thinking the fabric wouldn't crush. She was at the top of the stairs, one foot descending the first stair, when she heard Austins bedroom door open. She turned.

She had thought Austin was gloriously sinful in pajamas, apple and mint.

He had been insanely beautiful when wrapped in cotton and denim and leather, layered with salt.

But she was completely slain by the sight of him in a suit.

It was so unexpected, her grounded foot wobbled on the slender heel of her shoe and she clutched at the rail with suddenly damp fingers. If she fell over the side, and plunged to her death, at least her last thoughts would be pleasant ones, she thought abstractly, trying to regain her balance, certain she looked like a slobbering idiot.

He walked towards her, his face serious. He looked like he belonged in another time, she thought. No one like him could exist today. He is a silver screen star, bumming a cigarette from Marlon Brando. He is a gorgeous wartime pilot, captured in flickering footage sliding cockily into a Spitfire. He is trapped in the wrong era.

His hair was still ruffled and he ran his hand through it. She could see silver cufflinks glinting against his white shirt which lay open at the throat, the beautiful cloth pearly and clearly expensive. He had a tie in his hand, and as he halted in front of her he sighed deeply and wrapped it around his neck, his fingers tying a perfect knot.

Inexplicably, she wanted to call down the stairs to the others, it's a _white_ shirt! She couldn't remember the last time she had seen another colour but black on him. Suddenly, his skin seemed warmer, golder.

He smelled like…..plants….. flowers….. herbs.

She was quivering on the stair like she was on the end of a diving board.

"Where did that suit come from?" she blurted, looking up at him.

"I've got all sorts of things tucked away in my closet," He muttered sarcastically, picking at a cufflink. He smirked faintly down at her.

"I can only imagine," she managed weakly as she turned away.

He caught her hand and tugged her back up the stairs. He looked over her for a long moment, his eyes gleaming speculatively as they travelled lazily from the loose chignon gathered at the nape of her neck, the long sliver of skin beginning at her pulse and ending between her breasts, the thick fabric that simultaneously revealed and concealed. He tapped a fingertip lightly against the silver earrings that swung against her neck.

She braced for his innuendo.

"You're beautiful," he said bluntly, honestly. Her mouth dropped open and she hastily snapped it shut, mumbling vague thanks as he took her hand and led her up the second flight of stairs to the top floor of the house.

As they approached the green room, Allys heart began to twist in her chest. Austin squeezed her hand, and then released her.

Ally was speechless as she faltered on the threshold. She could do nothing but gape as Austin went in ahead and sat on the edge of Mimi's bed.

A table with five chairs was set at the foot of the bed. It was smothered in Mimi's heirloom Irish linens, which hung down thick and smooth like icing on a cake. A vase of wild violets scented the air. Dozens of tiny candles dotted the otherwise dark room, their soft glow flickering and reflecting off the crystal wine glasses, the heavy decanters of ruby wine, amber scotch.

Antique candelabra stood at the centre of the table, long candles lit. Billie Holiday's haunting, cracked voice was playing from a record player set up on the floor in the corner. A low fire burned in the hearth.

Mimi was sitting up, wearing a cropped velvet bedjacket and a dark scarf tied like a turban. She was holding a small posy of violets knotted together with brown string.

"Evening ma," Austin said to her quietly, taking both of her hands in his and pressing his lips tenderly to her brow. He rested his forehead to hers, and Mimi smiled into his eyes. The look that passed between them made ally shiver. She felt like she was intruding on something private.

She took a step back. He turned as if he had heard the shudder cross her flesh. He laid Mimi's hands down as gently as if they were a baby bird cradled in his palms.

"Come in, ally," he said to her. She ventured timidly into the room, turning a full circle as she took it all in. Everywhere she looked, the tiny tongues of flame leapt and sparkled. The curtain remained open, the dark sky an extension of the room.

Ally took off her high heels and knelt beside the bed. Exhaustion swept her and she sighed deeply and leant forward to rest her cheek lightly on the back of Mimi's hand which lay on the quilt, kissing her papery skin as she did so.

"Isn't it like being inside a genie's bottle?" Mimi whispered softly.

It was like being inside a dark diamond, bella thought.

She closed her eyes and felt Mimi smooth back some hair that had escaped from the pins at the back of her head.

She savoured the sensation, the gentle strokes, making her want to weep from the tenderness she felt being traced across the thick strands, and felt the love sinking into her flesh and marrow. Her throat thickened. She needed this love. Please stay, she begged desperately. Please stay. Who will anchor me now? She felt a tear slide out at the thought, dotting on the back of Mimi's other hand.

She opened her eyes as the grief crested over her, realising with shock that it was Austin leaning over her, squinting with the concentration of a neurosurgeon as he attempted to wind the curls back into position.

Mimi sat motionless, holding the violets, watching Austin with an unreadable faint smile.

Ally got to her feet awkwardly. "Thanks," she muttered, her hands going to her hair, backing into Ethan who walked through the door, also in a suit. He held her shoulders, steadied her. He walked her forward and pulled out a chair closest to the bed.

"Ethan, this is all so beautiful," ally said softly as he pushed her chair in.

"Thank Austin. He's the one that engineered all of this." Ethan patted Austin on the shoulder as he heard Mike approaching and went to help him carry the food.

Austin looked away from Allys expression of utter shock. He got to his feet, and moved to sit across from her, pouring a heavy measure of scotch. She stared at the antique silver cutlery. They sat in strained silence, and ally realised that he wasn't resting his legs against her under the table like he usually did. She felt odd for thinking of it.

Mike came in, also dressed in a suit, holding a salad bowl. He was closely followed by Ethan who had a tray of steaming tarts. Kira brought up the rear, carrying a basket of bread. Wordlessly, Austin poured wine into each glass. Ally took hers, sipped at the burgundy liquid.

Ethan seated Kira, and they all unfolded their napkins. Ally couldn't stop looking around the room. She could not imagine Austin lighting these candles, retrieving this linen. She flashed a quick glance at him; he looked like he was in pain as he swallowed his remaining liquor. It was obviously strong stuff. His fingertips were already touching against the sides of the decanter. Ethan was watching him.

Mike took his place at the head of the table, opposite Mimi, and began to serve. The tarts were gorgeous little things, and they all murmured compliments to Ethan. Mimi looked on; a keen spectator. She had loved to cook. Kira heaped green salad on the side of each as she passed plates around.

"Tell me about your date," Mimi said softly and ally groaned internally. Everyone stopped chewing. Mike laid down his fork and tilted his head at ally.

"I didn't show her a very good time, I'm afraid," Austin said before she could speak, dissecting his tart with two savage slices.  
"We walked on the beach, and it was windy. She had an awful time."

"That's not true," ally protested. She turned to Mimi. "Austin brought a picnic lunch, and we sat and talked for ages."

Mimi sighed. "Well, I think that sounds lovely. Was the sea calm?"

Ally shook her head, mechanically chewing another mouthful.

"It rained while we were there. But…. It was beautiful." She inadvertently caught Austins eye and they looked away from each other awkwardly.

He poured himself another glass and leaned back, his elbow hooked over the back of the chair, watching her under his lashes as he tilted his head to swallow. She saw his bottom lip kissing against the glass.

Mimi watched the little scene at the end of her bed passively, loving how she was almost at the head of the table, albeit lower and further away.

It was like she was watching a play. The words they all spoke washed over her, and she did not have the energy to listen properly. She felt like she was underwater as the medication and the warmth of the room made her dozy. She preferred to watch what remained unsaid.

Ethan brought up the main course; home made ravioli, and Mimi wondered if he had found the pasta machine in the cupboard, or whether he had rolled it out by hand. She watched ally put the little stamp-sized squares in her mouth, and counted the fifth glass Austin drank.

He was becoming increasingly undone; the button at his throat had slid open. His fingers slid under his tie, loosening it as he slouched in his seat, making no attempt to contribute to conversation. His hair was messier with every passing minute. He had stopped avoiding Allys eye, and was now staring at her blatantly, his finger tracing the side of his plate. Ally was pretending not to notice, but it was like someone trying to ignore a spotlight trained on them.

Kira and Mike were talking animatedly about an Italian movie they had both seen. Ethan was watching Austin surreptitiously, and refilled Kira's glass with mineral water. Kira talked more than she ate, and Ethan continued to prompt her to eat by tapping her plate with his knife. Kira seemed to be doing an impression, and Mike was laughing. Ethan interrupted and then all three were laughing.

She watched Mike, loving how his eyes travelled back to her, watching his eyes crinkle in the sad little smile he wore so often. She ached as she thought of how, when she was first diagnosed and he thought she was asleep, he would make little bargains with God into his pillow. Take me, he had once said, choking on tears. Don't worry, she thought now. I'll take you wherever I travel.

She looked at her sons carefully now. Each had inherited their father's limitless capacity for love. But it was as though they forged love in different ways inside themselves.

Ethan; Love like heavy steel. Straightforward, unbending, unbreakable. Forever.

Austin; Still burning in blue flames. He had been for years. Who knew what shape it would take? Something strange and beautiful, Mimi thought.

Mimi watched the silent conversation play out between Austin and ally. She could see his leg under the table, sliding across to her slowly, not quite touching. Ally was pretending to listen to Kira, but her body gave her away. Everything about her was tilted towards Austin, and her hand shook as she set down her empty wine glass.

Time lapsed, and Mimi opened her eyes again to see Kira cutting a cake- strawberry cheesecake? - that sat prettily on a glass stand. Austin leaned across clumsily and took a strawberry that decorated it, and said something to ally as he bit the strawberry, making her flush.

Be a gentleman, Mimi wanted to urge him, but she could not find the energy to speak. Be lovely to her. Show her who you are underneath. She managed a minute shake of her head as Austin turned to look at her, trying to warn him that he was being rough when he should be soft. His mouth twisted and he threw down his napkin.

Ally spoke to Austin under her breath now, and he defiantly took another gulp of scotch, leaning forward, putting his elbows on the table. He whispered something, raising his eyebrow at her, clearly daring her, his ankle running up the inside of her calf, making her jump and drop her cake fork with a clatter. Ethan paused, his forkful of cake hovering in mid air, and was saying something to Austin as well, clearly employing his mediation skills to salvage the situation.

Kira was watching the scene with a delighted fascination even though she tried to appear disapproving. Her eyebrows, set in a concerned line, continued to inch upwards and her lips began to twitch, before she realised and reset her face into a more sober arrangement.

Mike looked like he wanted to lay his head down on the table.

Mimi recognized Austins tantrum brewing, watched his knee jiggling under the table, the sparks snapping off his skin as everyone except ally began to chastise him at once. That's not the way to handle him, Mimi wanted to say to them.

Austin reached forward and took Allys left hand, selecting her ring finger and making her mouth drop open as he wiggled it and declared something to the room. Mike said something sharply to him, and glanced at Ethan and Kira.

Mimi was the least surprised when Austin abruptly stood up, swaying on his feet, a fine sheen of sweat on his brow. He was taking off his cufflinks and tossed them next to Allys plate. He wrenched off his tie and threw it in the direction of the fireplace. Ethan and Mike were ordering him to sit, and ally just shook her head, looking at the ceiling, clearly calling upon the saints to give her strength.

Austin was holding onto the back of Kira's chair, and then he was stalking from the room, the decanter in his hand.

The remaining four conferred for a long time, and from what she could gather between increasingly slow blinks, Mimi could tell they were arguing who was going to go after him. Mike rose to stand, and then Ethan did too. Kira looked between them like she was watching a tennis match.

Finally, ally got to her feet, silencing them. She slid her high heels on and slipped out of the room.

Mimi smiled and slid into sleep like a hand into a dark glove. Good, she wanted to say. Leave him to ally.

She always knows how to bring him back.

* * *

**A/N: thank you for the reviews. I will try to update tomorrow if I can.**


End file.
